Carapace
by ItsmeRibbitRabbit
Summary: She was a petty thief,with more luck than anything,to survive in Dunwall. It was this luck, bringing them together. If it was luck they met again,she was not so sure.(First part of Voyage home/ prequel to the silver waif)
1. Prologue:No place like home

Dunwall, 1833

* * *

She crept through the hallway, body sinking deep into the shadow, barely feet swept over the wooden floor with gentle movements.

Her coat felt too heavy. She sighed silently. Five more steps to the stairs. Ten to the office. Twelve to the balcony.

She knew her way around, had made sure to know. She heard laughing downstairs. Celebrations and drunken nobles were her favorite. 3more steps. Suddenly a noise. She moved up, practically jumping up the stairs, out of sight. She avoided the second stair, cause she knew it would creak under her weight. That kind of noise was never helpful to someone in her position. A maid passed just an armlength below her, mumbling something about her drunken master. Childish held her breath, pressing deeper, finding comfort in what little shadow the stairs had to offer.

There was laughter coming from downstairs, drunken laughter. Careless laughter. Bless Princess Emily Kaldwin, for she was a jolly good fellow! Birthdays always gave people reasons to feast, and that alone was enough to fill Childish's pockets with much-needed money and information.

One last look at the passing she was all alone again. And ventured further.

The house of Ardent Riveni was nothing special, it was rather small for a noble, but that just showed he left his money elsewhere. Riveni loved women. Unfortunately, they were not particularly fond of him. This resulted in horrendous amounts of money to bribe maids he harassed, bastard children he had fathered and lots and lots of whores. And also in his wife getting jewelry. Childish had rarely seen such an illustrious pile of rubies, diamonds, and gold. So much pretty glitter had to be a burden for the poor Lady Riveni. A burden that Childish was glad to lift.

The office door was not locked, to her own amazement. She listened closely but there was no sound or indication for an intruder. As careful as she could (Childish could be very careful, hell, had someone given her a baby, a crystal chandelier and a fine china teacup to juggle with, she would have mastered fine, up until the point where the baby hit the floor) she opened the door and spilled into the study. The jewels were some goodies for her, but her contract demanded something else.

She snuck up to the big wooden writing desk. Picking a lock on a drawer? No big deal for her. It took mere seconds(she counted her breaths; one, two…three) and with a satisfying clicking, the lock opened. Her fingers started to ache, but she ignored the familiar pain. Some money. Nice. Maybe she could afford those sweet new lockpicks after all.

And letters. She scanned through them quickly.

 _Dear Ardent,_

 _Our night togethe_ r -blablabla- _no one like you-_ ugh really?

 _A little help with_ -ok now we get to the point- _Yours truly, Emmeline_

Childish was pretty sure that was not what she was looking for.

The next one was more promising.

 _Lord Riveni,_

 _In the occurrence of our earlier correspondence, the matter of your inheritance-_

That was more like it. The next one looked even better. Oh, her new acquaintance would be pleased. And a deal was a deal, so Childish would be very pleased too.

The last one though was for her, and only her. Her tiny heart leaped with joy as she read.

 _Ardent,_

 _Your new mistress is a lovely woman, she offered her place for us to meet. Tomorrow, midnight._

 _J_

Tomorrow was not much time, but she had prepared herself. She knew all about Ardent Riveni and his friends. And she knew where his mistress lived. And she would get her pound of meat, even if it would be the last she did.

Someone tumbled upon the stairs. Childish cursed under her breath. She cursed a lot, she realized, how very scandalous. The door opened. No time to leap on the balcony. A great thief she was!

With one hasty move, the letters disappeared in the pocket of her coat. Getting cover under the wooden desk was bad but not worse than the curtains. And certainly better than getting caught.

A long second Childish cursed herself. Why had she never tried to seek a normal profession? Like baker? Or maid in a posh house like this? The uniform would have suited her better than her dark coat and the ragged, grey trousers. And her hair, when had she worn her hair long enough to do anything with it? Such an unfair life, she was not old and not even that ugly!

Oh, Ardent! What do you want to show me?' a female voice chirped.

 _His cock,_ Childish mused in her hideout. _I'm positive it is his cock. And you know it, girl._

They indeed started snogging, as far as the sounds could be interpreted. Moaning and drunken laughter rarely meant anything than snogging. And there was no escape. Because they got cozy on the bloody desk, the one and only Childish had chosen to hide under. She kept her eyes on the balcony. Her one and only escape. Just one leap. But no. Horny Lord Riveni needed to lay some lass.

The moaning and the other wet sounds got more intense. Childish tried not to listen and instead started counting her breaths again until that got boring. Then she thought about all the new things she would get herself with that horny idiot's money. And finally, she started her grocery list.

She thought about apples when two dark boots appeared on the balcony. Right out of nowhere.

And she meant it. They just appeared. Like they had always been there. Of course, it wasn't only boots but a man in a dark coat and whaler's mask too.

She blinked and he was gone. Only to reappear in front of her. She was imagining things now, was she? She sure as hell hoped so.

The sounds changed dramatically, but only for a brief time. Moans got muffled groans. Rustling clothes got the slashing of a blade. The wet sound of sex was replaced by trickling blood. And as fast as it started it was over.

Childish listened in horror. All that sounds were too familiar.

Eyes wide open, trembling hands, she watched him disappear. Had he just stopped for a brief second, staring right at her supposed hiding place, where the shadows and wood concealed her?

 _Outsider's dirty ballsacks. I am as good as dead. This time he will kill me for sure. I should have stayed far away, somewhere warm and cozy._

She cursed as she emerged from under the desk. Swift and clean work. She fought the urge to run away. This hit too close to home. Nobles, affairs, those movements…like he used…magic?

 _But why not me?Not that I complain..._

And how easy it would have been for him to kill her right here. She was handy with her lockpicks and quite agile, you had to be when you climbed Dunwalls rooftops. But that was that. True, she could and had defended herself. There was a dagger sheathed to her arm. Could she use it? Yeah, of course, and not for slicing her breakfast. Was she a match for a mighty, magic possessing assassin? No way.

And sure as hell, not this magical assassin. Cause he would be very pissed.

She needed to get the fuck out of this house. NOW.

 _Come on, old girl, your job here is done. Do what you are good at._

And so she chewed on her lips and leaped off the balcony. Despite her nervous feeling, her footwork was steady, her hands hurting, but as experienced as ever. The rooftops were illuminated by a firework, shining blood red in the dim light.

* * *

Childish had planned her escape route, but now she moved aimlessly, turning from district to district, using secret passages and shortcuts for hours. Surprising how much had changed in the underground of Dunwall. The city boomed with life and wealth, but also with filth. She was like an old whore, wearing too much makeup. That was the way of things, as some rose to power other fell deep. The filth was still familiar and better than nothing.

When she finally had herself convinced she was safe, dawn had arrived. The house bent under its own weight like an old man. It smelled the same, of dust and earth and death, sweet and rotten. She had chosen it out of stupid nostalgic reasons.

She double checked her surroundings before entering. She didn't exactly have a key, more of a wooden plank on the first floor she could slide through.

Stepping out of her boots and coat, she stretched her back. All her few belongings where stacked long a filthy mattress. Not much. A sigh escaped her lips. No place like home. Or the closest thing to home you had anyway.

A moment she wondered why she had returned. Dunwall was a rotten place. Then she thought of faces she had once known and cared about and guilt washed over her in an enormous ship wrecking wave. She would have stayed away if there had been any other choice. But things needed to end, they needed to end here and now, or it would get worse. And she couldn't risk that. And the people she cared about could protect themselves well enough.

Childish heard a slow tapping noise, and instantly knew she was not alone anymore. She wasn't that surprised when a strong, gloved hand grabbed her by the throat, slamming her brutally into the wall. It sill hurt. The leather felt cool on her bare skin.

I'd wager you would find me.' she whispered.'But not so fast.'

Hello, Sara.' Daud's gaze pierced right through her. For a moment she was quite sure he would just break her neck and be done with it. Outsider, she deserved it.

Years had been rough on him, just like they had been on her. So many new lines in his face.

Aw, you know I hate it when you call me that.' she coughed, desperately sucking in every bit of air she could get. His hands were like steel around her throat. Her fingers seemed tiny I comparison, searching for any weak point, her thumbs caressing. The pain was bad today, but then again, she had climbed the rooftops all night, so it had been expected.'Good to see you.'

And in an odd way, it really was. Touching him was familiar, and she had missed it. A shame, really, that they were both wearing gloves. That he was practically strangling her didn't strike her as a bad thing. It meant he was not murdering her in cold blood.

She looked down at his coat. He was wearing Red. So it had been one of his henchmen back there.

 _Figures, he would have noticed me way earlier, you need to work on your perception, old girl._

It has been a while.' She whispered hoarsely, one of her hands letting go of his. Maybe, she hoped, if she kept him talking, she could find a way to free herself.'Fancy coat.'

He caught her hand midway, Not even remotely close to his face, twisting it in a way that would have made her hiss- if there had been air in her lungs. Childish could practically feel his cold anger on her skin. For a moment her sight blackened.

You hid well these last years,' he said, loosening the grip around her throat but not letting go.'Why come back, Sara?'

I know we aren't exactly on best terms, darling,' she put every ounce of charm she ever possessed in her voice. It did next to nothing. Or at least that was what his face looked like. She tried to read more than suspicion and anger in his eyes and why not assume I missed you?'

Dauds only reaction was turning away and finally letting go. Childish took a deep breath.

You stole from us,' said another voice. Childish twitched, she hadn't noticed anything other than Daud and now she cursed herself for getting a victim of her own weakness.

You disappeared, without a word.' The man wore a coat like an assassin she had witnessed in Rivenis House. Without a whalers mask, she recognized the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the brown disheveled hair. She knew where the scar on his brow came from. She had been the one to comfort him over it so many years ago. Childish felt the blood drain from her face.

My sweet boy.' she could barely hold her smile upright. My dear sweet Ash, is that you?'

You lied, Childish.'

He didn't need to confirm anything. She knew it was him right away. With two long steps, she had crossed the distance, away from Daud's following eyes, and slung her Arms around Ash.

He didn't push her away but neither did he hug her back.

Fair enough, she thought.

You betrayed Daud. And you left me behind.'

All his words were true, but she didn't want to hear them from him. They were just ugly reminders but couldn't change past or present.

Childish looked up into his green eyes.'You know that was always what I was good at. Hiding and running away my little dumpling.'

You owe us,' he said. His face was much easier to read than Daud's. It told her tales of hurt, longing, and sadness.

I will repay you.' she said.'Sweet Boy, I missed you, I am so sorry, I will repay you, tell me, anything I can-

That doesn't mean anything from you.' Interrupted Daud.

Was it too late to run?

Tomorrow, it had only been for a short while. She could make it. Hug Ash a little longer, and then run like the devil. But she wore no boots, and the letters were in her coat. She needed those. No, he would hunt her down. Magical assassins sucked.

With a last squeeze, Childish turned back to Daud, studying his still frame, his sturdy shoulders, his hands, one wrapped around the hilt of his sword.

 _He knows me too well. He can see through it all._

I will not try to fight you, Daud. You know I am not that kind of stupid. You'd slice me open before I could draw my dagger. You are faster than me. 'she tried to reassure him. Stroking his ego would help.'I know exactly what I owe you. And believe me, if I hadn't a very good reason, I would have preferred not to come back ever again.'

Her words plucked a string in both of them. Ash looked even sadder now. Daud on the other hand...

 _Keep talking, you got him. He will listen. Just don't like him in the face. He would notice._

'If you want my head, take it. But I need to take care of some matters first. Give me two days.'

It was a bluff. She was not willing to ever pay her debts. But he didn't have to know that. The two men didn't look at her. Childish prayed to any godlike creature that would be willing to listen in.

Hey, I know I made mistakes, but everyone does, and yes, I probably am a bloody bastard, but I am also a quite good looking and useful bastard, so pretty please with cake, let me live one more day? I am going to build you a temple. Ten temples. If I have the time.

Surprisingly, Ash was the one is it?'

Gailvan followed me to Serkonos.' She let that sink into his little heart. It didn't Take long. No one hated Gailvan more than Ash. It won't take long until he finds me again.'

How did he find you?'

Juicy details, Childish thought. Daud was not as easily swayed as Ash.

Well, you know how he is. Sweet as gingerbread. I assume he broke some legs here, bribed someone there. she scratched her chin in a thoughtful manner.'Also…I May have tried to sell some rather unique loot.'

You mean my-

Yours, mine, it doesn't matter anymore, love.' she cut him off waving her hands around. Silly, but it added a certain spice to the words. And also, for the shadow of a moment, Childish actually would have sworn she saw that annoyed glance in Daud's eyes she had always been proud of. It made her feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Or would have, if she actually had been capable of fuzziness.'Point is, Gailvan still wants me dead. And you know that dog has tasted enough blood to bite my head off if I don't. So I say, let me handle it. Cause I sure don't want to end up shackled and tortured in James' keep.'

You wouldn't,' Daud answered. Childish smirked, but there were goosebumps on her spine from his implication.

Caring as ever. I take him out and give myself in your loving hands, what are you saying?'She extended her hand.' Did I Cut myself a deal?'

For now.' Childish's heart leaped up to her throat in relief and excitement. Daud bristled and studied her hand like it was a poisoned knife. 'But don't think I won't watch you closely.'

She gave him her brightest 's exactly what I was hoping for.'

He didn't as much as frown at her before leaving in a simple blink. Ash lingered for a moment. Childish gave him a nod.

'Take care,' Ash said. Then he was gone. Childish slumped to the ground in a single motion.

She was going to break that poor boy's heart all over again.

* * *

'Thank you,' Ash said, adjusting his mask.' For letting me talk to her. And not killing her.'

Dauds eyes remained focused on the worn out house that bent over the street. Not for the first time, Ash wondered what he was thinking. Daud had given him a new task in life, for which Ash would be forever grateful, still, he was never sure if the man ever had started trusting him or if he was simply another of his accomplices. Ash had not been particularly close to Daud. He had been near in the last years, carrying out tasks. But aside from the whalers, all they had in common was Childish. And Daud didn't talk about her. It was like she had been erased from his mind until Ash had seen her in Ardent Rivenis house.

 _I thought I saw a ghost. I wish I had._

Had it been the right decision to run right back to Daud and tell him? Ash had been so angry when he saw her familiar frame, casually lurking under a table like she had not been gone for years. Her eyes had been filled with fear, probably because she knew she couldn't hide much longer, or maybe that Ash would kill her. The anger had welled in him, for her not recognizing him, which was silly, with that hood and mask on him. He had almost wanted for Daud to rip her apart.

Sara-Childish has a way with people. You know that better than anyone. Don't let her wrap you around her finger.' Was that disgust? Or anger? Ash was not sure, but he wasn't going to ask. If Daud was angry at Childish, it was justified. For whatever she had been to him, she had fled and abandoned it all. So, Ash wondered, why was he so eager to forgive her? Was it simply because she had been cared for him, been like a mother to him when he had been all alone? Daud had to be right. She knew which buttons to press. She had always been manipulative. There was nothing else than memories.

My loyalty lies with you.'Ash said, clenching his hands to fists at his side.'She has lost any claim when she left. Nothing has changed.'

'Good.'Was it, really? Ash was not so sure about that. Daud stepped back, over the rooftop, finally turning away from Childish's hideout. The house was full of memories for Ash, and he was glad to leave. If it had been up to him, he would have never returned.

'You know she won't stay here?' he asked.'How do we keep an eye on her if she puts her disappearing act up again?'

Daud didn't answer his question, but somehow his silence was enough for Ash to know.

 _I guess he will just find her. You shouldn't have come back to Dunwall. Good luck hiding now, Childish._

'Then it's settled.'

'Yes.'Ash knew at least when it was time to go. And so he did.

 _I really hope you take care, Childish. Gailvan chasing you is bad enough. James at your heels is worse. But if you anger Daud, his wrath will smite you._


	2. Chapter 1:Down the ol' warehouse

_7 years ago_

* * *

In the dim light, the room was even smaller. Metal bars locked the windows. Somewhere in the back, behind the counter in the shadow was a man, and she felt the weight at the pistol drawn at her. Childish felt trapped whenever she came down to the basement. Nowhere to run. But she wasn't here to run and hide. She was here to conduct an agreement, a profitable one, and nothing else.

'You are shitting me, Hatchet, are you?' Childish's fingers tapped the wooden counter. Her nails were dirty half moons. Her Shirt was stained with mud too. All in all was this Not her best moment. Her hair was a wet mop, hidden under a big dark hat Crispin had lent her. She felt like a wet rat and sure as hell looked and smelled worse. Yuck.

'Would you mind to repeat that?'

The man behind the counter Just stared at her from under his glasses.

'5 per each makes twenty per Box, makes a total of 100.' He didn't look at her but the small Iron boxes stacked between them. They had been as covered in dirt as she was, but Hatchet had cleaned them with the careful hands of a concerned father. Someone named Hatchet, a bald-headed butcher wearing glasses, being careful like that, Childish could hardly hide her amusement. On the other hand, who was a woman named Childish to judge?

'Yes Hatchy, now I know you are shitting me.' Childish sighed dramatically.' I crawled through the sewers. Dived right into the River for you and almost drowned. Make it at least 10.'

He Just started, brow slightly wrinkled. '5.'

'This is preposterous!' she scowled crossing her arms in front of her body. Hatchet was unimpressed.'I almost got caught by the city watch!'

'Then you are simply a bad thief, Childish, and I should cease doing business with you at once.'

He still watched the boxes with greed. Too interested. He wanted them. But she knew she wouldn't budge.

 _Oh, you will not get me to agree on that. I have had worse men to negotiate with. And you do have some spicy secrets._

'You know,' her hands picked at the edge of the boxes, started to play with one, turning it around casually in her hands, the metal was cold to the touch. Her bare fingers felt the engraved symbols of the Outsider, caressing the lines. Hatchets eyes followed her every move. 'I have regular chit chats at the Golden Cat.'

Hatchet stared at her intently.

 _Oh, Hatchy, such a poker face._

'I just mean, I could maybe let a good word slip. About letting you back in. This time you won't actually run with your pants down and a cucumber-' Hatchets enormous hands curled into fists. She didn't actually talk with the owner, the woman looked at her like she was fresh meat, and Childish despised All the fresh talk came from Kate, one of the girls working in the Cat and her pleasant acquaintance and customer.

 _I always wondered if bald men could get a literally hot head. Now there is my answer._

She cleared her throat.'You can pay this time, can you not? And so generous too.'

There was a long silence between them and Childish was about to grab her things and just leave, because she was dripping wet and it was cold down here.

'Eight,' Hatchet said.

'Fifteen.' Childish countered, hugging the box.'Or no deal at all.'

'Impudent.' he rumbled. Childish grinned at him. 'I like you, woman, but I have to live off something. Let's make it eleven and a warning.'

'I am not particularly fond of warnings, Hatchy.'Childish took the boxes and turned around. At the door leaned Crispin's tall frame. His hand lingered at his side, where a sword was hidden under his coat. Hatchet was a big guy, and Crispin, not a very good fighter, but it was comforting to know he had her back. He was a good shot, though. Too bad he had fished her out of the water previously. His gun cocked at Hatches head would have made her even more self-confident.

It was a petty job for someone as wealthy and powerful as him to watch over her. He could have sent one of his men, or even let her do it all alone. Still, he was here. And he didn't interfere with her strategy, though the knew exactly that Hatchet would have been more than willing to agree to anything Crispin proposed. It was flattering, really.

Without the ugly black hat that Childish was now wearing, his blond hair danced in curls around his face. 'Crispin, we are done. '

'A cucumber?'Crispin asked, cocking his head. His hands reached for the boxes, they were flawless in comparison to hers. Had never worked a day. Not even a little scar. Childish gave them away gladly. Everything connected with magic crept her out. As a little girl, her fathers had told her stories, hushed whispers about the Outsider, about his worshippers, stories of artifacts and adventures, of murder and betrayal. She remembered them well enough to be wary.

'Wait,' Crispin said.'don't tell me. I don't think I can stand another of your foul-mouthed and dirty stories today, Childish.'

'Doesn't matter. I just want to get dry and warm again.' Just the thought of a warm blanket and a whiskey made her shiver in anticipation.'And you love my stories, Crispy.'

Crispin gave her one of his wicked grins. 'What can I say, they make me feel normal.'

Childish nudged his shoulder while taking the first two stairs.

'Someone is looking for you, Childish!'Hatchets voice boomed through the cellar.

She turned her head.'A lot of people do when they require my talents.'

'Not like this.'Hatchet left his counter.

'He is trying to bait you,'Crispin warned, practically shoving her up. Childish nudged him again, with more force, moving back into the room.

'What do you mean?'

Hatchet looked back, where his guard stood motionless, then back to her. He handed her a crumpled piece of paper.

Crispin turned around as well.

It was a faded drawing. And the face was definitely the one of his partner. Younger, with fewer lines of worry, and longer hair, but still. It was Childish in all her glory and every freckle.

She looked at the drawing in her hands, getting pale. A moment he thought she would start to cry, or scream. He had never seen her this terrified. Then she coughed out a stifled laugh.'Gracious, is my nose really this big?'

'It depends on the light.' he reassured her.'Where did you get this, Hatchet?'

Hatchet was not a bad guy, not at all. He could get very unpleasant and in a fit of rage he had once broken Crispin's nose, but that nose had been broken before, and he was not fixed on his appearance that much.

'A man came some weeks ago. He showed me the picture and offered me money for information.'

'Which you, of course, didn't take.'Childish's voice dripped of sarcasm.'And then you sent him away, which he declined, so your bodyguard shot him.'

Ah, if problems were solved that easy, Crispin thought, watching Childish's tiny back, caked in mud. Her trousers were torn, as was her damp shirt, and he saw a glimpse of her tense, lithe body. A body worth more than this dim light and dirty life.

He had to admit, the thought of bedding her had crossed his mind more than once. But no one in a right state of mind would have dared that. Crispin was fairly sure she wasn't interested in that sort of fun. Her charm was a weapon if nothing else. She was aware she was a woman, and she used it, as she tended to use a distraction. Childish was good company but in no way a fitting romantic choice. Head in the clouds, too deep in trouble, and always on the run.

She had noticed his glance. Her elbow hit right into the soft point of his stomach. He almost let go of the boxes.

'I told him your name and that I knew you, but hadn't seen you for a while. He wasn't very happy.'

'Do tell.' Childish muttered, lips pursed.'What did he look like?'

'Big, brown not out of the regular.' Hatchet shrugged.'Had a smaller guy with him, reminded me of a rat.'

'Gailvan and Sorrows,' he said. His partner in crime clicked her tongue.

'He left this.' Hatchet pointed at the paper. 'Told me it was an important matter. And if I saw you, I should tell you...'He was thinking about the right words.'You broke James' heart. And he needs to see you again.'

Again, a long and heavy moment of silence. The paper in Childish's hands trembled. She made some muffled sounds, clearly in pain. Was she crying? Crispin leaned in closer, trying to comfort her.

It was not crying, no tears. Childish let out a roaring fit of laughter.

She had officially lost her mind then. The hat fell to the ground as she shook her head. Her auburn hair clung to her face in wild strands.

Hatchet seemed as irritated as Crispin felt.

'Sorry, sorry.' Childish was still laughing, holding her stomach. 'Really, it's just-ahahahaha-that little plonker really thinks he can bait me-ahahaha-James HEART-'

'Childish. We need to get moving. They know your name now.' he urged her.

'Yes, yes.'She took a deep breath. Still giggling.' Alright. Take the boxes, Hatchy. Give me 9. I haven't had a good laugh like that for ages.'

When they left the basement, Childish whistled a low tune.

'You are frightening unimpressed.' he finally said.

'Oh, don't make that face, Crispy,' she put his hat back on his hair, pulling it down so he couldn't see for a moment.'I will figure something out. And they know my name, so what?'

Crispin frowned. 'I'm fine with you being careless. But if you don't waste a thought about us, it hurts my feelings.'

'I will keep you both safe.' she muttered, stopping in her tracks. 'Wait-I did tell the boy to go back and hide, did I?'

Crispin stared at her with a mix of anger and shock.

'Joke, joke.'Childish winked at him.'You really think I would forget about what was his name?'

Crispin moaned under the weight of her bad jokes. But something about her made him at ease. 'We still need to figure out how to get rid of them.'

'We will.'For a moment, there was no more joking in her eyes, only determination. 'But keep it from Ash for the moment. That boy would only get angry and do something stupid.'

* * *

Crispin's warehouse, Childish s home, was a bent and old house. Rotten, it had still maintained some decency. It was decent enough for Childish, at least. And way better than the places she and Ash had lived in the last years. Crispin knocked on the door, the only thing recently changed and new. A wooden bar slits to the side, revealing a pair of green eyes.

'Password?'

'Open the door or I will kick your skinny ass, boy.'

'Fair enough.'

Childish chuckled. As soon as the door opened, she leaped inside, shrugging out of her boots.

'Hey lovely.' she patted Ash's arm.'You ok?'

The room smelled good, part of it Crispins doing. There were bundles of drying plants hanging on the walls. Childish had no idea what most of them were, but he could do wonders with them. The front rooms had been once furnished, maybe a small shop, but now there only was a stained drawer and a pair of chairs. Ash had made a fire in their makeshift fireplace.

Ash was all limbs, lanky sixteen-year-old that he was, not yet grown into his skin. Still, he was almost two heads bigger than her. Looking down, he smiled slightly.'Yes, why would it not be?'

'You did a good job,' she told him. His face lightened in an instant.'You are a fine scout, Ash. I was just too slow.'

'I learned from the best,' he told her', handing her a warm mug. She could have kissed him.

'Thank you.'Crispin said, hovering over Childish and stealing her mug before she could protest.'You are flattering me. And you are spoiling her, Ash.'

'Nonsense.'Childish reached out, but Crispin simply held the mug over her head. He wanted her to jump. She simply punched him in the stomach. 'I deserve being treated nice. He is a good boy.'

Ash caught the mug, handing it back to her. 'Good boy,' she repeated, patting his arm.

'I am not a dog.' Ash sighed good-hearted.

' True, you are much more adorable. Never liked most dogs too much. ' She took a sip from the warm liquid. It was one of Crispin's flowers, without doubt, and it made a fine tea. Better than most of the muddy water or burning bits of liquor she had consumed most of her days anyway. 'Now, if you excuse me, I need to change.'

Crispin bowed. 'Mylady.'

She waved him off, taking the small staircase that led to the small second floor. 'Yes, yes. Dismissed, unworthy minion.'

Something felt wrong when she entered her room. One of the windows stood wide open. Childish took it as a sign of Ash's carelessness. She ignored the shiver, that crept up her back.

Her clothes were stacked up in a small pile along with her small bed, a gift from Crispin she would be forever grateful. He had never taken anything back for his generosity, a fact that had made her suspicious first. People always wanted something in return. He had only asked her to work for him. It had turned out working for him was more fun than a burden. she did all the dirty work, after all, but she got paid good coin. And to be honest, she liked it dirty anyway.

 _I need to remember that. It will drive Crispin and Ash mad. Combine it with a wiggle of the eyebrows maybe._

Childish took another sip of her mug. Some senses in her back tingled. A single sound on the wooden flooring.

She whirled around, only to see a gloved hand with a sword, ready to kill her. Her body moved swifter than her brain could control it, she jumped back, the sword slicing through her damp shirt, cutting her side.

Childish hissed. The intruder wore a dark hooded coat and bloody whalers mask.

She had a very, very bad feeling about this. 'CRISPIN!' she screamed at the top of her lungs.

One moment the man (it was a man, was it?) stared at her. Then he swung at her again. She leaped away, this time the blade caught her arm, cutting her badly.

In an act of desperation, she threw the mug, distracting him, if only for a split second.

'CRISPIN!' she screamed again, ducking under an attack.

The man kicked her, and she fell, trying to get up. His boots crushed her lungs. With a whoosh the sword aimed at her heart.

Suddenly his feet were gone, and she could breathe again. The man stumbled. And when he turned around, there was a bolt in his shoulder. Then he leaped out of the window. Childish heard afar splashing, as the man landed in the canal beneath the house.

Ash was standing in the doorway, holding a crossbow, the color drained from his face. Childish sat up, moving back, with her back to the wall, breathing heavy.

'You are bleeding.' the crossbow fell to the ground. 'Childish?'

He wasn't only calling her name. It was the concern of the boy she had watched grow up and raised. Childish panted, forcing herself to ignore the pain as best as possible. She couldn't let him see that she how horrified she was, couldn't let that mask slip, not now, not never, he needed her, her confidence was essential.

'Get Crispin.' she huffed, holding her arm.

He dashed back down the stairs. Childish felt the warm blood on her fingers. She pressed the cloth of her shirt harder down the wound.

In the silence was only her loud breath. Her head felt dizzy.

When she opened her eyes again, Crispin had cut her torn shirt to pieces. Ash stood beside him,grey-faced and wide-eyed.

'It was one of the whalers.' Ash said. 'I saw the mask.'

'I don't know. She is lucky, but this lucky? When they want someone dead, they usually end up quite dead.' Crispin's busy hand were practiced and moved perfectly calm. Childish watched closely as he cared for the cut at her side. Her arm was bandaged in white cloth. It stung. 'Could be anyone with a mask. We need to find out more about this.'

'You know something, Crispin?' Childish whispered. Ash looked at her in bewildered. 'I am not going to die, sweet boy. Cut it.' She forced herself to smile.

'Maybe.' he cocked his head. 'Maybe I do know some people. I know at least one who wouldn't be too pleased about imposters.'

'Good. Then try to contact them. Ash, my dear, help your poor old Childish to put on some clothes, will you?'

Ash averted his gaze for a moment, ears slightly red, before taking her safe arm and pulling her up her weak feet. Sometimes she forgot he was still just a kid. Crispin disappeared with a concerned and thoughtful look Childish didn't like in the slightest.

Ash had grabbed a gown and held it around her. 'I am sorry. I should have-' He bit his lip.

'Shush, it's not your fault I was being too cheeky.' She hissed when he helped her in her sleeves. 'You saved my life, sweet boy. Thank you.'


	3. Chapter 2:Songs of booze and murder

**'Did I tell you I mugged someone?' Childish tried to lean against the table casually, but she failed. Pain shot over her bruised body and through her arm, still bandaged under her clothes. She did manage not to wince, but her face must had given her away.**

'Well,' Dima said, dark eyes trailing her body. He had a heavy accent, but she couldn't place it. He had never told her where he was from, and since she had never left Dunwall, Childish was not good at recognizing the different patterns.'You are a thief, so it is natural for you to do that, no?'

'No, Dima, I mean, I literally mugged him.' She just flat out jumped up the table (a bad idea, it hurt even more than leaning on the desk)and sat down this time. Dima didn't seem to mind. But he wasn't the one in charge, so if the actual owner of the place showed up, she would probably get scolded. Waiting and silence was all right if you were about to steal a ruby the size of an egg right under the owner's nose, but not if you were a customer in a black market shop and desperately bored for over an hour.

'I threw a mug at him.' She used her unharmed arm to imitate the gesture.

'Ah.' Dima smiled. Clearly not in the mood for another of her stories.

'Hit right in the head. Bought me precious time.' Childish obviously didn't care if he was in the mood. 'Fair enough, I would have died if my sweet Ash hadn't saved me, but everyone needs to be saved from time to time.'

'I never got saved.' Dima just said.

'Well, you are never leaving this place, so no need for that.' She rolled her eyes.

He hummed in consent.'Hecate would kick my arse if I did.'

'Speaking of the goat nailed to the wall, where is she?'

'I told you, yes? She is in the back. But there is business.'

Over an hour. And all he ever told her was this. Fed up, she got off the table.

'This back, I presume?' Childish pointed to a door in the back of the room. Dima was not fast enough. With a few steps, she had closed the distance and turned the knob.

The door opened with a creak. Childish slipped in, there was actual light from some windows, a small staircase led down, where another exit must have led. The room itself was better equipped than the one she usually conducted trades with Hecate. It had a nice set of armchairs, made of red velvet, and a huge desk. A big window with a balcony was opened wide.

On the balcony, she saw Hecate Jones, as plain as usual, hair in a tight knot, grey streaks standing out in the black. She was smoking, willowy body straight. Next to her was a younger man, arms crossed, dark hair. He stared at her intently, eyes steel, and she felt a shiver creep up her spine. Childish had never met him before. Which was peculiar. She had thought her connections through Crispin had brought her to know most of the people in the black market.

'If it isn't my favorite little penny snatcher, Childish.' Hecate Jones exhaled a huge cloud of smoke right into Childish's direction. That was as good a greeting as she would get, she supposed.

Dima came right behind her, protesting.'I told her to wait.'

'I guess she didn't feel like it, then.'Hecate said, and the tone in voice told Childish that Dima would not have a pleasant day. Or week. Or life.

She was actually very sorry.

'You know how I am, always in a hurry, not Dimas fault.' she said cheerfully, and hoped it was enough to get him out of trouble.

A moment no one said anything. Just people breathing. Hecate Jones eyed Dima, Dima looked miserable, and the stranger could have been a statue. Childish flashed another smile at Hecate. The woman shrugged.

'We are done.' said the man. 'I expect you to honor our agreement.'

Jones exhaled another cloud of smoke. 'Wouldn't want it any other way.'

As he stepped up into the room, Childish had to look up into his face. Not really unusual, most men and even women were at least a feet taller.

She didn't mind being small. It only meant less noise and more tight spaces to squeeze in.

Their eyes only met for a split second. It was enough for her to feel the danger surrounding him.

Then she stepped aside, watching his sturdy back, the dark clothes, the sword at his side. Careful movements, every foot in place. He didn't make much noise. Interesting.

Dima stood there, watching them all, before hurrying back into the other room at a single glance of Hecate Jones.

'Who was that?' Childish asked, biting her cheek.

'So curious.' Hecate made a low sound in her throat, watching Childish just as intense as the stranger had, but with a little dry smile around her lips. 'I suppose I could arrange a meeting since you are eager to know. That is,' another cloud hit Childish right in the face and she coughed. 'If you want Crispin and your boy to fish your body out of the river.'

'Alright, Hecate, I hate swimming and I do get your point,'Childish still coughed a little, and she was positive that she was pouting a little bit.'No meddling.'

'For your own sake, little bird.' She didn't move, and why would she? If Childish wanted something, she was the one to get closer. But not too close. Or she would lose a precious limb.'Or someone will pluck your feathers. Cause that is what people do. We eat you birds.'

It was not a threat, it was merely the way the older woman would always chide her. One time she had even smacked Childish's head. The thought of being a bird in Hecates mind amused her. A bird could be adored, a bird could fly, and a bird had claws, as tiny as they might be. Worse things to be.

 _That is_ , Childish thought, _if the bird is not in a cage._

Hecate stood still and straight, now looking back, over the balcony. Dunwall lay clouded in grey. Tiny little drops of rain started to go down on the rooftops. Still, nothing could wash the dirt away, if visible or not. Hecate moved inside, eyes still locked onto something Childish couldn't see.'What brings you?'

'The book.' she said, in a voice suggesting Hecate did exactly know which book she meant. 'You promised me the book. I need it. I can trade it for something far more valuable.'

'Valuable for you.' Hecate answered drily. 'Consider yourself lucky I even told you it was in my possession. There are many people who would love to get their hands on it. And the Abbey would brand us all as heretics for it and leave our corpses to rot.'

'With all due respect,' Childish said, crossing her arms in front of her body. 'The book belongs to me. There is very clearly my name on it.'

'Your old name.' Jones shrugged. 'Which you don't want to be reminded of.'

'Yeah, well it comes in handy now. So I don't give a pigshit. Hecate, please?'

Hecate finally looked at her. 'I would give it to you. But I just sold it.'

If Childish's eyes could have popped out of their sockets, they would have now. She stared at the older woman in disbelief.

Hecate scoffed, then she went to one of the armchairs and made herself comfortable in it, lighting a new cigarette she drew from a silvery etui. 'Don't give me that look, little bird.'

'I thought I was your favorite pocket snatcher!'

'You are.' If Hecates face wasn't made of stone, she may have sounded sympathetic. 'But that is all you are. A penny snatcher. A little thief and a fence. You sell artifacts your mind cannot grasp for anything. And Crispin lets you because he doesn't care. Also, it discouraged the competition. That man is clever.'

For the first time in ages, Childish was rendered speechless, torn between shock and anger. 'I-we-' she gaped.

 _We had an agreement, you old hag._

She didn't say that, of course. Her mouth was loose, but she liked the teeth set inside it.

'I made a deal with someone who values the book for what it is truly. It is in better hands. And I can sleep at night, not thinking someone will murder me.'She frowned.'Not that they could. Outsider knows, they try again and again.'

'We are all trying to avoid assassination.'Childish finally said, voice like sandpaper.'Which is why I wanted that book, Jones. Who has it? Hatchet? It is not with any of the smugglers. I'm fairly sure Crispin would have heard.'

'Give up, girl.'

'It is that mysterious man from earlier, isn't it? Tell me about him, we can make a deal.' Childish demanded. Amusement gleamed in Hecate's eyes. She had always found Childish to her liking, which the woman was glad of because otherwise demanding things from Hecate Jones ended badly.

'If I told you the slightest bit of information,'Hecate said.'I would not only break my code of honor but sentence you to death, birdie. Because the only way you know to get things is lying and stealing. And he would not only find you. Oh no.'With a flick, her cigarette flew into the fireplace.'You have nothing of worth to him. Not even your life. So, I tell you one more time.'Her eyes still gleamed. Those steel eyes, calm and deep, and dangerous. Hecate leaned forward, grabbing a glass from the small table that stood beside the big armchairs, pouring herself a drink and sipping slowly.'Give up now. Forget that blighted book. And run home to your boys.'

There was no coming through. Childish saw that she was wasting time. Hecate would not tell her anything willingly. Dima on the other hand..if he knew something, she could tickle it out of him, and maybe, if she gave her description to Crispin... Ugh, she hated relying on him so much.

'I am going to find him.'she said, pointing at Hecate.'I am going to get my book. With or without your help. I am very disappointed in you, you are a mean mobster and black market boss, Hecate Jones. And the smoking makes your teeth yellow, ha!'

Hecate eyed her silent and unmoving as she stormed out of the room. 'For your own sake, I hope you fail.'she muttered into her glass, before downing it.

* * *

Crispin moved through the rain, burying himself deeper inside his coat, pushing his head over his face until the world consisted of feet, mud, and shadows. The rain muffled all the noise, drained the city from all its colors. Not that there had been much, to begin with.

He followed the trail along the canal, hearing the dirty water close enough, the moaning of the boats, the singing of the rats. He knew his way around. Even if he had people doing his dirty work, he kept his secrets close, and Childish and Ash belonged to that secrets. not one of the one he hid well, but more if the ones where you put something right underneath the other person's nose.

Ash opened the door almost immediately. Crispin shrugged out of his wet coat and hat.

Childish stood near the fire, gnawing on her lips and clearly pouting over something.

He hadn't seen her in a gloomy mood for a while. Ash let his shoulders hung but otherwise he seemed fine.

When she noticed him, a small smile crept over her face.

' _There once was a rich man in Red Pence_ ' she said, arms wide open as if she was reciting a precious drama in front of the empress herself.

' _who paid for a lyin' ole fence_

 _she snatched all his trust_

 _endure now he must_

 _But lost all his common sense.'_

'That gets right to the point.'he admitted, and Childish bowed sluggishly.

'Don't encourage her, Crispin.' Ash sighed, clearly pained. 'She is pestering me with bad limericks all day.' he whispered. 'You can only hear 'piss in a bucket' and 'fuck it' so often.'

Crispin chuckled. The boy was too kind to ever shut her up.

Crispin sniffed, there was a rather unusual smell in the air. 'Did she drink?'

Childish never drank. Not ever.

Ash nodded, concerned, and tired. 'Since she came back last night. She won't talk to me about it.'

'Only liars whisper, my mother used to say.' Childish slowly made her way over. And now he could smell it all too well. She stank. Of sweat, canal dirt, and hard liquor. 'Crispin, dear good Crispin. So nice to see you.'

Did she slurr a little?

'I didn't know you were a poet, Childish.'

'What can I say,' she hugged him, sliding her hands down his sides. 'I am full of surprises. So good to see you, my love.'

'You reek.'he told her, honest and concerned.'What happened?'

She hugged him a little longer, uneasy on her feet. He patted her back, her grizzled hair brushed his cheek. It was strange to hug her, normally she didn't get so close. Maybe he could have enjoyed it more if she hadn't been such a mess.

'I missed you.'she whispered, her words lingered, and then she moved back, retreating hastily to the fireplace. Ash watched them silent. It took him a moment before he noticed something amiss.

He sighed. 'Give me my keys back, you pesky little thing or I throw you into the canal.'

She pulled his keys out and threw them in his direction. It was not the first time she had tried to get them, but this had to be a new trick up her sleeve, and what a dirty one.

'You know, that reminds me of a song.'she said, seemingly thoughtful but clearly dazed.

Ash looked alarmed. Crispin knew he couldn't stop what was coming. It didn't make it any better. Childish drank, long, before grasping for air, shaking her head and starting to creak. She had no beautiful voice, no siren was calling Crispin. It sounded like someone clubbed a cat to death.

 _'In case I fail to swoop the key_

 _don't let them make a grave_

 _a tombstone, great and grande and grey_

 _the ship must sail the wave_

 _And if just one mate mourns for me_

 _it all was worth the try_

 _so let them drink and let them be_

 _poor bastards, they are sly'_

She made herself at home at the fire. Ash had managed to get more chairs and a little table. Childish took a swig from a bottle before fiddling in the shadow beside her.

Crispin wondered where that had come from. Booze and bad mood did strange things to his friend. Childish the shanty queen, huh.

'A sailor told me that once, heh. There was more, but I can't remember.' She appeared to be almost sober for a short moment. 'Other matters at hand. It has been four days,' she remarked. 'Could you learn something of importance, Crispin?'

Childish was sitting down in the chair, feet lazy dangling over the armrest. If she was in pain because of her wounds she didn't show it. She was cutting an apple, knife shining in her left hand. Her movements were slow. He would have bet it took her a lot of concentration.

Crispin took the place to her right, taking her bottle and making himself at home. It was his house, after all. Cheap liquor, burning down his throat, no wonder she reeked like a distillery.

'Yes.' He shuddered at the memory of the meeting. 'He was not amused about imposters. He should have sent someone to look into the matter two days ago. I am sure no one will try to bother you again.'

'Ah, he exists then.' Childish stole the bottle from him, apple and knife in her lap as if she had forgotten about them. 'I almost started to wonder if he was a ghost. Are the rumors true? Is he as terrifying as the petty nobles made him?'

'He is a man.' Crispin said as if that was all there was to say. Childish was still drinking, eyeing him through the glass of the bottle with a sleazy look. Was she squinting? It didn't look very healthy.

'Come on, Crispy, don't leave me hanging. I need some details.'

He thought about it for a moment, what to say, what better not to say. There was not particularly much, to begin with. It was not as if they were best friends.

'Your age, I'd say. But not as..'he searched for the right word.

'Not as _childish_?' she smiled.

Ash sighed again. The boy had sat down on the table, facing Childish.

'No one is as much _childish_ as you. ' She took that as a compliment. Crispin let her.

Ash cocked his head slightly.'Who are you talking about?'

'Remember the year we lived down at the port in that cellar?'

Ash shuddered. 'Not much. I was sick all the time, and the water was getting back in there, so everything was slippery and 's pretty much all.

'Yes.' Childish eyes softened.'Slept most of the time. And almost died on me.'

Crispin remembered very well. Childish, skinny and gaunt, tired, but with steel in her eyes, as she had tried to rob him in an act of desperation. The rain was pouring down on them. He had aimed his sword at her throat. Shivering, wet, she had said:'Do it. I just want my boy safe.'

He took the bottle from her, letting his hands linger a moment, she didn't react, just took a deep breath, before grabbing the apple and the knife again.

Ash looked equally thoughtful. Crispin leaned back.

'Are you going to tell him the story or not?'

'Shush. I need silence!'she hushed him before clearing her throat.

'There have been rumors these last years. People growing even wearier. When you were sick, I didn't want to bother you, and when you recovered I suppose it wasn't important to me.'Childish didn't Look up, Just casually cutting the apple and eating small bits. 'It all started on a foggy night 2 years ago. There was a house, filled with Dunwalls finest. It was said to be the best-guarded keep. Except for the palace, of course. And two or three other places I would love to get my hands on to.'She shook her head, nibbling on a small piece of apple.

'Anyway. Every evening they had a party. Fine dresses, gold, food you could never imagine. They were decadent, and as rich and noble people have their way, they make enemies. In this foggy night, all started again. Music, eating, Dancing. The fair ladies laughing, the fine gentlemen discussing business. The next morning, someone wondered why the windows were wide open, and why the house was silent. No music. No laughing. No one coming or going. So naturally, they looked. You know what they found?' she whispered.

Ash watched her dead silent.

With a single motion, Childish plunged her knife deep into the wood of the table.

Ash watched her in awe, eyes wide.

'Death. Someone had murdered every single being in the house. They found just one maid, who had hidden in the basement. She was as white as a sheet and most things she babbled didn't make sense. She had clearly lost her mind in the terror of that night. One thing did though. She swore it had only been one man. One man, dressed in black, with a sword. She swore on her mothers grave she had Seen him appear from thin air, the start killing. First the guards. Then the nobles. Then the servants. It was a bloodbath. When it all ended, some people in whalers mask s searched the place. Then they left. She couldn't see his face, unfortunately. But from then on, the man in black was told the be involved in a not even minor count of assassination. And they dubbed him ' she took the knife again, looking at the blade thoughtfully. ' _The_ knife _of Dunwall._ '

Ash let out his breath. Childish snickered, still looking at the blade.

'I still think it is a hoax. But Crispin, our dear patron, and friend, is his acquaintance, and he swears he his real.'She stuffed the rest of the apple into her mouth.'I hate it not to know anything besides stupid rumors.'

'The Knife of Dunwall doesn't like snooping around.' Crispin said, drinking again. 'And I am pretty sure he would not appreciate you trying to backhand him snappy comments. Frankly, no one does like that.'

'I am sure he would be smitten.' She batted her eyes at him. 'Like everyone is.'

Crispin shot her a dirty look. Childish grinned back, batting her eyes, even more, fanning herself with the knife like some odd kind of lady.

'How come that I never heard this before?' Ash asked startled.

'As I said, you were sick when this happened.' she shrugged. 'And it's not like people meet at the market and say 'Oh, long time no see, nice weather, eh? Heard about the last bunch of people that got killed?'

Crispin shook his head.'It would make things so much easier.'

Childish didn't hear or choose to ignore the irony in his words.'I know, right?'

'So,' Ash said. 'Since no one is trying to kill us at the moment, what are your next plans, Crispin?'

So she still hadn't told him about Gailvan and Sorrows. Crispin swallowed hard.

Childish jumped to her feet.

'We steal, we sell, we drink, that is my plan.' She stretched her arms. 'Another poem!'

'No no no no-' Ash shouted, and Crispin let out a long, wailing sigh.


	4. Chapter 3:Found

Sleeping in the open was nothing Ash had ever been fond of. Back when his mother was still alive ,he would sleep beside her, sharing her small bed in the servants quarters. Her steady breathing had kept him safe, her warmth lulled him into a false sense of safety. The day she had died it had changed. Because no one could ever protect him from the horrors that came in the dark,be they men or monsters.

He remembered the times he had crept to Childish's quarters,after his mother was gone. Curling into a tight ball beside her door. She had invited him in,but he never budged. James chased him off whenever he found him,kicking him, hauling insults at him as the boy retreated. Childish clinging to James's arm, holding him back,luring back into her arms with sweet words. He had detested the young lord with his whole being.

'Sometimes we do things we are not proud of', Childish had whispered one night, returning with a split lip and a black eye. 'Because we need to survive. I will do anything to keep us alive.'

Ash had burned with hatred bright as the sun. The next night, Childish had staged their escape,still limping and bruised,but with that mischievous twinkle in her eye as she took the book from James with her.

In Crispin's warehouse Ash could have had a bed, a whole room for himself. Instead he still slept in front of Childish's door most nights. When she caught him,he retreated to Crispin's room, which was unused most times, and hid himself under the table, wrapped in a blanket.

This morning it wasn't different. The sun had risen a few hours past. He had heard Childish sneak out, but hadn't moved, being in a state of drowsiness. He just lay under the table, eyes closed, listening to the sounds of the water, the aching of the house, and the city waking up.

He wasn't in the least surprised to hear the knock. It was his job to open the door for Crispin and Childish. Guarding his home, Childish called it. He didn't explain to her she was his home.

The knocking continued. It was persistent. Ash stretched,not even trying to smooth his crumpled clothes. Then he jumped down the dusty stairs.

'Coming!'he shouted. Childish must've had a bad morning.

He opened the wooden bar, fully expecting to see Childish grey, twinkling eyes, surrounded by freckles. Instead, a cleaver cut through the wood with force, slicing a good part of the opened part of the door. It stuck there, blade still trembling.

'Open the door, Ashley. Or I will gut you like a fish.' The voice was muffled. But he recognised it anyway.

Gailvan and Sorrows had found their hideout.

Panic shot through Ash's bones. Panic and fear. He tried to calm himself.

 _What would Childish do?_

 _She would have a weapon. And she would use it._

He looked around, searching the room for anything useful as a weapon. He found the knife Childish had left behind, plunged in the wood of the table.

The door trembled under the weight of Gailvans knocks and kicks.

'Open the door!' the man yelled. 'And tell that whore to come out! SARA! I know you are there!'

Ash's mind was struggling to grasp the situation. He couldn't run. He couldn't hide. He put all his weight against the door, trying to hold it.

His feet scraped over the floor,his legs trembling.

He wouldn't let them enter. He would guard this house. He had promised.

Suddenly he heard noises from upstairs. A head in a whalers mask peeked below, and he looked Ash straight in the face.

Gailvans attempts succeeded after a painful minute.

He kicked in the door, sending Ash toppling to the ground.

'She isn't here.' said the man with the mask. 'And neither is the book.'

Ash came back to his senses , grabbing the knife as Galvain, wearing the same whalers mask, put his big hands around his neck. He lounged at Gailvan, not hitting anything but the mask, that was sent flying to the ground.

'Ashley, tell me where she is."

'I am not telling you anything, you pig.'

The hands around Ash's neck squeezed tighter. Gailvan grinned a black-toothed grin.

'You will, boy. She isn't worth it.'

She was. She was worth his life. And more than that. But Ash didn't have the chance to say anything. He tried desperately to catch a breath, his arms flaying before him. The other masked man plucked out the knife from his hands him effortless.

'Kill him, Gail, he won't say anything.'

'He knows more than we do.' Gailvan said, still strangling Ash. The boy saw black dimness, a choking, miserable sound escaping his throat. 'Would be a waste. Besides, she cares for him. Let's take him, see what she is up to. Leave the present upstairs.'

 _Bait_ , Ash thought angry and annoyed by his uselessness. _I am nothing but bait._

Then the world went black.

* * *

'I tell you, she would have loved to have her way with you.' Childish said, hands in pockets, walking close to the canal. Crispin gave her a disapproving glance.

'She wasn't my type, and the few coins weren't worth it.'

'What, don't have a thing for warts?' She smirked at him. 'I thought the big black one on her nose was especially lovely.'

'I can do better, you know.' Crispin said, nudging her good shoulder. 'I am not ugly.'

'Oh, I know. ' she simply said, still smirking. 'Your face is the reason I didn't slit your throat in the first place.'

'And I thought it was me who had a blade on your throat.' He wondered, shaking his head, still walking close beside her small frame. The rain had stopped,but her hair was still wet,as was her coat. There was a gleam of rainwater and mud to her pale freckled face. Thanks to his hat, he was mostly dry, though Childish never stopped teasing him about it.

'Memories can be deceiving.' she swaggered along the water, kicking a loose cobble into the canal. 'I wanted you to feel safe.'

He shook his head. 'I never feel safe when I am with you.'

'Truly a shame. I consider myself most trustworthy. With the right motivation,that is.'

'Well-'he started but grew dead silent, stopping in his tracks as he saw the entrance of his warehouse.

Childish ,still fixed on his face,furrowed her brow. 'What, did I win so easy this time?'

He still didn't say a word, looking at the kicked in door, the splintered wood. The cleaver.

Her face turned ashen when she followed his gaze.

Without saying a word she jumped into the house, kicking parts of the door out of her way.

He followed her. The room was a mess. But there was no blood.

A knife and a cleaver were lying near the entrance.

'Ash?' her voice echoed through the hollow room. She took a step to the stairs, as if she was unsure what to do, still grey-faced and silent. 'Ash? Love?'

Crispin kneeled beside the destroyed door, eyeing the scene, the cleaver hoping it would tell him anything. When he looked to Childish, she was holding the only remnant of whoever had been here.

A whalers mask.

'They took him.' she whispered at first, her shaking voice growing in volume. 'You said the situation was under control but they took him!'

'I wasn't the reckless one!' he hissed at her.

'I did only what you asked of me!'

'Oh drop the act,' Crispin towered over her, and she glanced up at him, angry and confused.'we both know you only do what you like, woman. And if you truly cared about the boy you would have told him there was danger!'

'You take that one back.' Her finger clutched the mask desperately. 'Crispin. Or I swear by the Outsider-'

'Swear what? I am your only friend, Childish. You can't do shit without me.'

The mask sailed to the ground. There were tears in her eyes. Crispin couldn't say if it was an act or real. She sometimes did that to get her way. And even if they were real he was too angry to care."Screw it, I am packing my stuff."

'That's what I thought!' he yelled after her. 'Run away! It's not like you didn't try before!'

She didn't answer. There were angry stomps as she stormed off, then a shriek.

With three big steps he climbed up the stairs to find his friend in the doorway of her room, wide-eyed, hand covering her mouth.

'What is it?' His arms went around her waist, supporting her as she turned away from the room, still covering her mouth, making a muffled, disgusted sound.

Hatchet's head lay, neatly sliced off his body, on her pillow. The man's glassy eyes were open in shock, his blue

tongue dangled out of his opened mouth.

 ** _TICK TOCK SARA_**

Was carved into his forehead.

Trembling, Childish turned away from Crispin and vomited.

* * *

It took a while before they both felt able to speak again. Sitting in front of the building,Childish was the first to speak again.

'It's time you introduce me to some of your friends.' She swiped her sleeve across her mouth before spitting out.

'I don't know if that is a good idea.' Crispin wavered.

'I really don't care about good ideas.' She spat out again. 'If Hecate hadn't sold the book Ash would be still here.'

'Then find it. You are a thief.' He reached out,taking her hand, nimble fingers and pale skin. It felt cold. 'Take back what belongs to you.'

'Whatever it will take.' she promised,squeezing his hand back.

'That's the spirit. I will try to find out how they were still alive. One would assume the Knife of Dunwall would take better care of a matter like this."Crispin looked at the grey sky,a peek of sunshine finding its way through the thick wall of clouds, glistening in the dim water."He isn't so sloppy. Something must have come up.'

'Who cares about the blighted Knife. I don't need a ghost hunting my enemies.'

'Better choose your words carefully. He is a proud man.'

'And if he was the emperor himself I couldn't care less.'she snorted,colour slowly returning to her face.'You two had a deal. When ghosts can't finish a job real people need to take action.'

With a determined look she let go of his hand.

'I will get the boy back, even if I have to burn Dunwall to the ground.'


	5. Chapter 4: the dog and her reflection

_**Thieves respect property. They merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it.**_  
 _ **-Gilbert K. Chesterton**_

* * *

'Get out.' Hecate Jones was in a foul mood. And she was quite drunk, if the empty bottle did suggest anything. Childish had used the balcony to pay her a visit, slipping over the roof had hurt like hell, but the wounds would take more time to heal, time she didn't have. It was quite an entrance, especially since the older woman wouldn't have let her in without an actual appointment.

'You tell me where I find him.'Childish demanded.

'I won't repeat myself. 'Jones said in a low voice.

Dima shifted uncomfortable. Poor sweet Dima, stuck between women with grim fangs and claws. 'Please, Childish, I don't want to hurt you. Come with me, yes?'

As he was about to put on a hand on her shoulder the woman spun around, baring her teeth at him. 'Touch me and someone will get hurt, Dima. It's a promise.'

Dima reached out again, unsure. She slipped away from his grasp like a weasel, scurrying closer to Hecate Jones desk. She knew what she needed. But Hecate watched her closely. No risk. Take and leave, that was something Childish lived by when it came to theft.

The first time she had been her the desk, scanning it, she had seen the papers, neatly sorted.

The second time she had shuffled them, touching the desk in a meaningless gesture. Now she had to wait. Be patient, Childish. Patience is important when dealing with the enemy.

'You know something.'Childish said. 'You can't fool me, old girl.'

'I always found your insolence charming. Hecate said, releasing a cloud of smoke wit one breath, steel eyes watching closely. 'Don't make me regret that, birdie. I know nothing.'

Childish leaned against the table hands curled into fists. 'Well, thanks, I just can't buy my dear boys life with that.'

'I am sorry for your loss. But people die all the time .'Jones shrugged.'Dunwall is a grim place.'

Sorry, was she? She would be. Soon enough.

'I can't help you.' Jones said, casting the cigarette aside, lowering her hand to her belt. 'And now leave. Or I can't guarantee I won't shoot you.'

'Shoot me. Go on!' Turning around, her hands dug in the papers. The flew off the desk, sailing down, scattered around her feet.

Childish remembered a day were Jones had been particularly moody and drunk. She had come to the woman to make an arrangement for Crispin and instead, Jones had her watch her do paperwork, rambling pissdrunk about the evil that were the abbey and the emperor. Childish was new in business and turning the queen of a mobster trade down seemed unwise. So she just said there, watching Hecate fold and write and sort. That had been a mistake. You don't invite a thief to look at your things. Hecate may have been smart enough to take control once and she was still sharp despite her other qualities. But she lacked awareness. She mistook interest for loyalty. And after her degrading talk the last time, it was clear she underestimated Childish.

'Birdie.' Hecate Jones gun pointed at her chest. It could have been thrilling, but since Ash was gone all Childish felt was cold. Cold and angry. She didn't duck. She didn't move. She just watched the gun . Hecate didn't have a finger on the trigger. She wouldn't shoot. Too messy. Too loud. They both knew that. 'Go with Dima now and I will forget this farce. I won't help.'

You did help, Childish thought, letting the paper slip in the back of her shirt. You just don't know yet.

'Fine.'she bowed sluggishly. 'As always, Madam, business is a pleasure with you.'

Dima was gripping her elbow. This time she let him.

'Well don't YOU know to treat a lady. 'she mocked him and shrugged him off as they had left Hecate's room.

'As I said,' Dima didn't look her in the eye.'I am sorry. And I am really sorry for what happened to Ash. He was a good boy.'

He talked about Ash as if he was dead. Childish felt the urge to slap him, hiss at him. Instead she smiled softly. _Keep your cool, girl. He wants distressed maiden? He can get it. You know the drill._

Squinting her eyes together, she blinked. One could think she was about to cry if he wanted to.

'I am sorry too. ' distressed maiden Childish said, wavering and shy. As if she was anything but shy. He ought to know that.'The day was rough. You are a decent chap. It is not your fault Hecate wouldn't help me.'

Was it a tad too much to touch his arm? Now Dima looked up. His ears were painted in a soft shade of pink.

Not too much. Exactly right.

'You asked me about the man that bought the books from Hecate .I said I didn't know anything...that was a lie.'

Obviously, Childish thought. But just nodded.

'You don't have to tell me.'Childish said, averting her gaze the way she had seen honourable women do it. A part of her died from the howling laughter she had to hold back.'I really don't want you to get into trouble.'

Poor Dima. She felt a bit guilty. But just a bit.

'I don't know much.'Dima admitted in his heavy accent. 'But Hecate called him Daud. He wasn't much of a talker. It was a smooth transaction. They made some sort of bargain, Hecate wanted to get rid of an old enemy that works for the abbey.'

'Thank you.' Now there was the smile again,she couldn't cover it anymore. Dima took the wrong signals. But what was he supposed to do? She played him like a fiddle.

'Childish, you have a hard time. Do you want to talk? We could..?'

 _OH, my sweet friend, you really are too good for me._

'Wouldn't want to overstrain your hospitality, ..'she casted a quick glance to the door.'I don't think Hecate would let you go.'

The paper was a page from a book. She hoped she had grabbed the right one in the heat of the moment. Unfolding it slowly, her hands smoothed down over the crumpled paper.

" _I cannot go with you," the duchess said, gasping for air, held in the tight embrace of her lover._

" _You have no money, no status, where would we live?"_

" _No!" Antoine cried out, their fiery gazes locked into each other._

" _I would kill for you, Angelique, you are my muse, my angel, light of my life."_

 _Their mouths met in a passionate kiss, her arms finally held him, as Antoine had wished so many times. She was perfect._

Fiery gazes? Who says things like that?

Childish felt the need to throw up the scarce breakfast she had consumed.

" _My house is a ruin, but that ruin would be a palace as long as we would live there together."_

Hecate, you minx, making me read this is worse than getting shot, Childish thought. There were notes scribbled on the last section of the page.

 _D B B HD statue right_

D is Daud then.

B is book? But the other B? Birdie?

Harbour district? There was something resembling a statue, under all the pigeon shit and dirt.

Oh Hecate, not half as clever as you try to act. All the years on top made you careless and sloppy.

It's a start. Better than no lead.

Paying Daud a late night visit. Hoping he wasn't there.

Halfway through the city she saw Crispin, standing in front of a shady etablissment, seemingly waiting for someone or something. It was not their meeting point and she was a good hour early. After making sure the coast was clear and she wouldn't disturb his business,she walked over to him.

'Got any lead?' she whispered, leaning close. He spun around, gun pointed at her.

'Dammit,woman, keep the sneaking to people you are not friends with,will you?'

'I will. Sooner than later. "she chuckled half hearted." I will get my book tonight.'

'That's a pity. I thought you were eager to meet a ghost.'

'Aw blimey !'

Crispin was very satisfied to see her gaping.

'Well, I can manage to be at two places in one night. I am a quick little spider. Pray tell me where you meet, I wouldn't want to miss it.'

'Thought you would say so.'He put his gun down. 'But not here. Let's take a walk.'

'OH, we take a walk? How lovely! But I think my chaperone went missing somewhere. Maybe she is stuck in a pile of shit over there.'

'Well, then we should watch out closely.'

'Please refrain from holding my hand. Courting has to be civilized, Lord Crispin. To save my virtue.'She said, wide eyed. 'But if you want, you can write me a poem. I would very much like that. A poem about my nimble fingers, my quick mouth-'

He nudged her. 'Your mouth never closes.'

'Not what I expected but all right.'

They moved through the streets, avoiding people as good as possible. There was a beggar and occasionally someone tried to sell them useless trinkets fished out of the river,but other than that no one bothered them.

'Crispy,my dear, you wouldn't know someone named Daud?'she asked, strolling along.

He sputtered. 'Where did you get that name?'

'Stumbled upon it.'she shrugged. 'Is that a yes?'

"It's a maybe. And that is all I will say.' His mouth tightly shut, Childish sighed.

'Seems like Dima is the only man who finds me charming enough to spill the beans. What a pity."

'You tricked Hecate's minion? How mean.' He sounded almost impressed.

'I never claimed to be anything but, you'd know if you had listened.'

'You talk so much I cant remember every lie.' Crispin cleared his throat. 'So, the book? You think James will let Ash go if you hand it back to him?'

'I like to have something he wants. Just in case.'

'He wants you.'

'He won't get me.'

'Take care.'he whispered, hugging her. She didn't hug him back, standing stiff and rigid. 'We meet at the warehouse at midnight.'

'Midnight, huh? How very dramatic.'

Returning to the warehouse felt wrong, but it was a clever move. They wouldn't expect her to return there so soon after soiling her room and kidnapping the only person she had ever truly cared for. Or so she hoped. If things went awry there was a Knife that could slit any throat.

'Don't look so worried. 'she patted his back. 'It will be fine. I'll swoop in and out, they 'll never see me coming.'

Oh, how wrong she was. She would find out very soon.

* * *

Night time in the harbour was like diving into the cold ocean itself. The wind blew cold, and the indistinguishable darkness embraced her. Her heart beat in the rhythm of the waves.

 _My house is a ruin..._ Childish thought as she crept closer to the building , hopefully inhabited by her new best friend. It was eerie silent. That felt wrong. Something itched in the back of her spine as she climbed a loose pipe, back to the crumpling stone, and headed straight for a wooden plank in front of a window.

Conveniently placed.

She didn't complain, her arm still hurt.

The room was cold. The window had been open for a while. A single candle was placed by the abandoned fireplace, flickering. It casted her shadow on the wall as she ducked, moving with care, until she blew it out. The darkness was a good friend. She didn't fear to be discovered, for it was too dark to make out the small frame clad in black. But not dark enough to conceal the desk. Or the book shaped thing lying on top of it.

With two steps she crouched through the room. It was wrapped in a cloth. As she felt the weight of the book in her hands, she couldn't resist to take a look. The black leather was still as shining and smooth as she remembered, the lock ,holding it together, still as fine and well crafted as the day she had first unlocked it.

It whispered in her head, stories of dreams and madness, of the cries of whales and never ending sorrow.

She had forgotten how much she detested touching it. She quickly wrapped it back in the cloth.

That was the moment the floorboards behind her creaked ever so slightly. A blade settled at her throat, perfectly placed at her carotid. Smooth and cold, able to kill her fast.

'I knew this was too easy.' She whispered, her voice sounding too loud in the darkness.

'And still you fell for it. Did Jones send you?' his voice sounded hoarse, like someone that had drunken too much whiskey. It was a whisper against her bare neck and it held as much promise as the blade on her throat.

'She doesn't know I am here.'Childish managed to say more calm than she felt. This was different than Hecate pointing a gun at her. This was real. Her death was more than possible. 'I came by my own account.'

'Then I suppose I don't have further questions.' The blade moved, with a slight hiss.

'The key!'Childish squeaked.

The blade froze again.

She had his attention. Good.

'You need the key.'

'And you have it?' There was a grim, dark amusement in his voice, as if he was used to people bargaining for their lives. And very tired of it.

Danger. This was as close to death as one could get. she felt very alive. And very aware that this could be her last breath.

'I know where it is,and if I die you will never find it.'

'Tell me and I may let you live.'

'If I tell you you will just kill me, everyone knows that,bummer.'she rolled her eyes.

The blade still didn't move but she felt him shifting his weight.

'I suggest'she said, putting one hand slowly in the direction where the hilt and his hand were.'You take that down so we talk.'

'No.'

'What? Why?'

'I know your kind. You will never tell me. You'll just try to run off with the book and then I kill you.'

'So you prefer killing me now? 'her voice cracked a little, while she squinted her eyes in confusion.' What does your kind mean? I have no kind.'

'You do.'he stated calm.

'Nu-uh!'

'This is a waste of time.'

'Likewise.' She hissed. The book had still been in her hand. She let go of it, and it hit his boot without much damage. Without the weight her elbow sailed a back into his body, with all her might, as her other hand gripped the hilt of the blade. It scraped along her throat but didn't slit it like intended. She twirled around, getting a look into dark eyes that watched her in the darkness like prey. She felt anger. She wasn't prey. She would never be prey.

As soon as she ducked away, hoping to evade the blade ,he kicked her, and she had no more air in her lungs. Gasping, her back hit the desk.

She gasped for air desperately, blood dripping down her collar, into shirt and on her skin.

The blade settled again on her skin.

'I am not a very good fighter.' She confessed breathless.'So if you wish to continue this, let me take a break.'

'You wouldn't last very long. 'She studied the pale oval of his face in the dim light. Shadows casting over it, concealing his expression. Only his eyes, those sharp watchful eyes. That one, she knew thought himself as a wolf. And that he was no sheep she could see.

'Cocky much, are we? 'she mocked. Which was probably not the most clever thing to be done.

'You are fast but small' he observed. 'One for running and climbing.'

'You noticed! I am flattered! I can show you, if you wish!'

'No need.'Was that already annoyance? 'Where is the key?'

'As I said, I can tell you. If you put that sword down.'

He cocked his head, seemingly in thought. When he actually pulled the sword back she couldn't believe her luck.

'The key is hidden.' she said, kneeling slightly, as if she was still trying to catch her breath.

 _Buy time. Then run._

'I had it for a very long time. Longer than the book'

Speaking of books .She grabbed said one, lying still next a to his leg, and darted away. To the window. He didn't make a move.

 _Almost. Almost there._

She blinked once. Daud was blocking her way. Something itched again on her spine,as it had when she touched the book. He was standing in front of her, blocking her way effectively.

'How?' she asked,confused.

'I don't need to answer that.' He took the book back.

'Of course you don't!' She staggered as he pushed her back,and she made several more steps in the desperate attempt to stay away from him.'Its not like you appeared out of thin air!'

It was a small chase,the room wasn't big and you can only move backwards for so long before bumping into furniture.

'The key.'

'My friend has it.' Sweat on her brow. This was taking too long. And it got stranger by the second.

'So you're not the only knowing.'

'Well to be fair, no.' She shrugged her shoulders before getting serious. 'But I am still your only hope. Because someone took him from me. And I am going to get him back.'

He seemed to think about it.'Two days.'

'Fair enough.' Childish answered without blinking. Two days was less than she hoped for. Still it was two more e days alive. And having Ash back the sooner the better, it suited her just fine.

'It will be easy to find you. So better not try to run away.'

'Tried. Problems always seem to follow me.' She looked down the window. 'Can I use the door?'

Not entirely an hour later she was back at the warehouse.

'You're late.' Crispin said, sitting on his chair at the window. Ash's blanket lay careless by the table and Childish felt her chest tightening.

'Lucky our friend is too.'

'Maybe he won't show up.' Childish crossed her arms. Crispin watched her through a mob of his blond hair, peeking down from under the hat he even wore at night. Ridiculous. 'What?'

'You are bleeding.' Crispin sounded concerned. 'And you didn't get the book.'

'Figures. If I had I would be getting Ash back this instant.'

'You wanted to talk.' A familiar voice said. Childish whipped around. As she stared into Dauds face, she couldn't hold back the desperate howling laughter in her throat.

'This.' She huffed. 'This is precious.'

The man she owed a key and the ghost that was the Knife were one and the same.


	6. Chapter 5:A matter of beliefs

The whiskey was cheap, it burnt down her throat ,warmed her belly. It calmed her nerves, stopped the shaking of her hand. It clouded her fears. She watched the sun go up from her spot on the windowstill in Crispin's room. The old rags that were the curtains swelled in the gentle breeze, playing with her hair, kissing her sweating brow.

She looked at the amber coloured liquid in her hand. It had the same colour as James eyes. She would never forget his eyes.

Even as a young girl, she had never dreamed of love or a happy end to pull her out of the miserable live as a poor man's daughter. She had always been practical. She didn't fancy beauty. She didn't want love. All she cared for was to get a better life than her poor mumbling father, lost in crazed dreams of a world that had never been.

James family had taken them in, treating them not much better than their servants. That was better than the streets so she accepted. But when she noticed James eyes ,those amber coloured ,sharp eyes, lingering on her, watching her every step, she knew what to do.

Drawing him in was easy. He didn't think of her as a real person. The Sara that laughed and smiled and nodded was but a toy. He didn't even notice she was the one in charge. His bloated ego forbid him to think otherwise. And so she had been by his side, planning and scheming, to get on top. Till someday, she could finally be free.

But she had taken it too far. And she had underestimated James. His ego and his power had made him possessive. Cruel. And unpredictable.

She had been sick of him. But when he had started lashing out, she knew it was time to move on. And so she tried. But he hadn't let her go. He had beaten her blue and black.

He had deserved what she had given him. She would always remember the summer night . She would always remember his cries of pain. His amber eyes in anguish. And she would do it all over again.

"Still up, Childish? Crispin's voice shook her awake from old memories.

She downed her glass, ready to fill it again.

"I don't think I can sleep until I get Ash back. "she confessed. It was true, she was tired to the bone. But her mind was restless, still processing what had happened.

He joined her, standing next to the window with his arms crossed. His hair was tousled. He had been sleeping, if only for a few hours.

The sun crept up the sky , illuminating his hair, it shone almost white in the light.

"If you want him back, "Crispin was looking at her, still concerned. "Sleep. you need a clear head."

She hummed in agreement ,but still drank, watching the sunset.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Aren't you already?"

He shot her a dirty look, but continued.

"Do you believe in.. anything? Divine? Or do you follow the teachings of the abbey?" he scratched his head. "Weird that it never came up in the years we know each other."

"The abbey? Really?" She snorted." I steal things they would brand me heretic for and you ask if I am faithful?"

"We both know you don't care what it is you steal. You only care for the coin."

"Not entirely true. I care enough to hate it."

Crispin shuffled his feet uncomfortable. "You know, I never understood your disgust toward-"

Childish sighed." I use his name as a curse, it's like saying shit or blimey. For that I am up. "she shrugged." But I saw what happened to people worshipping the void and its god. You don't pray to the Outsider. You pray he never notices you."

She thought of her father, for the first time in forever. Actually recalling his face, they way his eyes saw both nothing and everything, the clinking sound of the whale's bones that he had hung up by the window like some sort of twisted wind chime.

"My grandfather worshipped him. He told tales of the void. He said he heard his voice in his dreams. And so he stopped his business and became obsessed with the occult. Whale bones, they were for me. Trinkets of shrieking bones. Tainted tokens of the past. Artefacts they were for him and my father. He was the one that acquired the book from who knows where. And my father followed his path. You know how that ended. For him and my mother."

"You never mentioned that was because..."

"Yeah well not my favourite topic," the sun was up completely. She stood up, body heavy. "Consider me nostalgic and quite drunk right now."

"I am sorry. I never pieced it together." He looked guilty. She huffed quietly.

"Don't be. They were mad fools."

But then again, what was she? It runs in the family, her father always had said.

A fool she was without question.

"Go to sleep." Crispin urged her.

" You could join me." She offered, her eyelids getting heavy. She blinked, slow.

" That would end badly." He declined, though she could see a part of him fighting.

"It always does." Standing on her toes, she gave him a kiss on the cheek. "It always does. Sleep well, my friend."

* * *

Ash could hear the dogs barking again. He hated dogs. Especially this two. Big, abnormal hungry, vicious ones they were.

The metal bars that held him ironically kept him safe from the beasts.

In the cage next to him was a girl, not much older than him. She wore a torn maids uniform. When they had dragged her in, she had sobbed and was shaking uncontrollable. Now she was dead quiet, squeezing herself in the corner that was the farthest away from the dogs. The cages weren't very big, he could stand, but when he stretched his arms, he could reach both sides of it. The hairless brutes circled them, fangs flashed.

He wondered how long he was trapped in here. There was no light. The cellar was illuminated by a few candles and a small lamp that stood in the wooden table. Why waste light on human toys and prisoners?

The air tasted stale and foul.

The barking got louder. He saw Sorrows in the light of the lamp, small frame leaning against the table.

"You got them all excited, Ashley." He chuckled, patting one of the dogs." They can't wait for James to feed them your remains."

Ash didn't trust his voice, so he remained silent.

"Hungry,boy,are you?"

The dog barked enthusiastic . The girl started sobbing again. Ash had thought about reaching out to her, touch her ,she was in his reach, but the dogs would have punished that.

"What's wrong, Ashley? Lost your voice? I could swear I heard you scream for Sara just hours ago."

One of the dogs came closer again, growling. Ash watched him. As he was close enough to squeeze his head through the bars, he took a swing, hitting the beast on the nose. With a whimper the brute retreated.

Sorrows chuckled again. "You will regret that."

No, Ash thought. You will regret that. You will regret all of this. And I will enjoy it.

He smiled at Sorrows.


	7. Chapter 6:What joy to see you go

_**[AN]Despite all the jokes and the snark,this is it,Childish,why are you so fun to wrote witty and snarky? I hope I dont write anyone too OOC ,if so shoot me a PM. Also people worrying. No sexy romantic love here. Just platonic. The whole thing. If there are errors.I clean them later. Just needed to get the chapter out of my system.**_

* * *

Contacts normally were Crispin's thing, but Childish had learned a thing or two, and finding someone once you knew he wasn't only a rumor was easier than she had thought. And since she hadn't slept at all, there was plenty of time to go around town anyway.

She had stopped by Hecate Jones first, but hadn't entered the building. The old witch hadn't noticed Childish had stole something, but she had increased her security. There were at least three guards in the open. Under normal circumstances Jones kept her guards hidden in a room behind her office. She seemed vulnerable for someone not paying attention, which was probably a suggestion she wanted to generate.

Strolling through Dunwall in the early hours was always special. Half the town went to bed, the other woke up.

Tired faced servants hurrying through the streets. Drunken wastrels staggering along the sidewalk.

Here was the whistling of a tune, there was the bickering of seagulls. The sound of water by the river. A boat, rowing through brackish water.

Oh, and the smell. Dunwall never smelled exactly the same, even in the same spot.

She had closed her eyes and breathed in deep.

Fish. The boat rowing by held it.

Smoke. A chimney near.

There was a hint of the factories close by,never sleeping, and its always busy workers.

Not surprisingly. Piss. A drunken man whistled a tune as he walked by.

She made her way down the river, enjoying the life around her. Occasionally she slipped behind a brick wall or changed course to not cross ways with the city guard.

There had been no one when she arrived. Dust on the doorstep. The door wasn't even locked. But then a whaler had appeared out of thin air. Crouched in a spot over the stairs close to all wall. He had scared her half out of her fidgeting, nervous mind. This whole magic thing, or whatever these guys were using,it made her feel sick. Her stomach turned near of it, just like when she had touched the book or when Daud had appeared in of her.

She couldn't see anything other than his dark coat and the mask, but felt his eyes piercing into her.

Creepy, wasn't it? But oddly entertaining all the same. All this charade, this build up, what a lovely disguise. It certainly had pathos. And practical all the same.

"That looks uncomfortable." she remarked, a small smile on her face. He didn't answer, she just saw him breath.

Childish cleared her throat." I guess you could say I have an appointment?"

He nodded. "Follow me."

He waited for her climbing up the stairs. She tried to make her face as unreadable as his mask as she followed him.

In bright daylight the room looked completely different. That was the thing with nights and darkness. It could disguise, mystify . But it never truly changed the being ,only the perception. Childish sat on the table. Not one thing in the room was a reminder from her earlier visit. Sure thing, the desk was still there, and there was a small smudge of dried blood on the wood, but other than that, it held nothing personal. She hadn't expected it any other way.

Her coat had many pockets. While she waited, she checked for its inside. The small pouch with the coins, her knife, strapped on her elbow. She felt the weight of her lockpicks. She remembered having longer hair, always put together by extra picks and pins. The hair had proven more of a disadvantage as she became wet often, diving into the river. Once someone had grabbed her by it. Cutting it short held more practical use.

 _Lockpicks, knife,dagger sheathed on her hip,coins_.

Lists helped her keep her concentration. She couldn't loose her cool. No need to get all giddy.

Her thoughts wandered to Crispin,asleep in his chair,and to Ash, whatever he was going through. Her nightmares consisted of terrified screams,of blood and his frightened eyes.

The boy didn't deserve any of this. He had done no wrong except getting attached to her.

When Daud popped silently into existence in front of her, her heart leaped up to her throat. She could hold back a startled sound, but her face must have had shown it all.

"Seriously, there are stairs? Normal people enter through doors and use them!"

"You are easily scared for someone of you profession."

"My profession involves guards and closed doors, and the occasional sneaking. Not magic taradiddle like your blinking."

"And the book?"

"What about it?" she crossed her arms. "I didn't want it as a mojo or something. It was a means to an end."

Something in his expression wasn't at all to her liking."You are not the mystery you want to be."

"Oh,of course,you meet me once but have me figured out? Do tell? Am I as graceful, lovely and irresistible as I always thought?"

"The quipping won't help your friend, Sara Verley."

"Quipping always-" Childish froze in place. "Wait. How did you..?"

"I said it before. You are no mystery. And you didn't cover your tracks well."

Her mind fidgeted again. Another list.

 _What is in this room? One smug assassin,a desk,a startled thief.._

"Ah, well,too late to change now. But please never call me Sara."

"I don't plan on doing so."

"Childish is fine for me. If Daud is fine for you. They will sing songs of our friendship."

"You wanted something." He didn't take the bait.

"I always do. In this case though.."she fought the bad feeling settling in her stomach. "I didn't say anything last night.. don't want to let Crispin know about this. For whatever it takes. I want you to get Ash Out there. He will give you the key whatever happens to me. In contrast to me he cares about promises. And I want Gailvan and Sorrows all for myself. I don't care about the other. But this two.." The thought of seeing Gailvan's skull crushed by a gun shot made her heart beat faster in joy. "I may not be able to get the real troublemaker, but those two will do just as fine."

* * *

"Time to move, Ashley." Sorrows voice. The dogs were not around. At least Ash didn't see them. His whole body ached as he sat up, exhausted and hurt.

Sorrows held a rope in his hand.

They will hurt me again, he thought dizzy. Was he afraid? There would be pain. But he would survive it. They still kept him alive.

Keep your mouth shut. He didn't trust his voice after the last night. Also, his mouth was so dry he wouldn't be able to speak even as he wanted. He looked up to Sorrows small frame ,he didn't move.

"Sara has voiced interest to buy you back." Sorrows sounded disgusting chipper.

Childish. A warm feeling crept up his belly.

Sorrows noticed his expression and smiled. "Look at that, he thinks she has come to save him!"

He opened the cage. Sorrows had no weapon and no back up, but after last night Ash wouldn't have been able to flee or fight even if someone had helped him.

He could barely stand as Sorrows tied his hands together in a tight knot and dragged him out.

"She isn't a saviour. You know she cares for herself most. " One more drag, Ash stumbled behind him." She wants to save her own hide . You just happen to be involved."

You're wrong, Ash wanted to say. After the last night he wasn't so sure. He hadn't said anything about her. But why had she not come to rescue him yet? What did hold her back?

One more night and I am dead. Ash was almost sure if this. He remembered his pleas.

 _Make it stop. No no no no. Make it stop. I love you. Please help me. ChildishChildishChildish . Please._

"You always were such a good little puppy." Sorrows dark hands touched his head in a sick imitation of the pat he gave the dogs." Never leaving poor Sara's side."

Ash flinched a little. It hurt. He had assumed he had seen and felt the worst in his years on the street. He had been wrong. Whatever motivation James had. Gailvan and Sorrows were in for the act. They genuinely enjoyed everything they did.

* * *

"I wish I could come with you." Crispin stood in the doorframe, eyeing her closely. Dark circles lay under her eyes. Did her hands shake a little?

"You don't." Childish sheathed her dagger. His pistol dangled from her belt." And there are more important things for you to do. You have a life outside of me and this mess."

A small life with lots of work and responsibilities, Crispin thought, oogling Childish. He missed the boy. There was something reckless in the way she held herself. An absurdity, regarding who he thought about. But this was different. The boy was the one to hold her in tracks, calming her down and reminding her there was something worth living. "Still."

"If you really want to help me, stay out of this. "she gave him a half hearted smile ."I have a new best friend. He is better at this killing thing than you."

"Ah,I got replaced by a dubious assassin so fast. Please don't run off with him."

At that her smile got real, reaching her eyes. "Can you imagine? Our children would be lovely little bastards."

"I really don't want to."

"Spoilsport." She snorted.

"Stay safe." He hoped making a deal with someone known for death would grant his friend to live.

"Never." She promised, before leaving without so much as a glance back.

* * *

The mansion was run down, half hanging over the river. The walls weren't crumbling yet,but it wouldn't take long. It was not the house Childish and Ash had grown up in, just some third grade property of James's family they had stayed in sometimes.

The street wasn't too busy, despite the early evening. Childish didn't bother knocking on the door. She had waited a while after she saw a glimpse of dark coats and a mask.

Silence was a good sign she assumed.

With one gun shot the lock burst and she kicked the door with one foot open. There was a smudge of blood on the floor, but no body. Contempt with her choice of company, she stepped in.

"I am here!" she yelled."Gailvan, you knob! Sorrows! You manky twit!"

She saw Sorrows and one other henchman arrive at the stairs. Sorrows stood a little higher. Ash was with him, confused look on his face.

"Stay where you are." Gailvan said. "You don't want Ashley hurt, won't you?"

"I came here cause you broke into my place and left me a bloody head on my pillow!" she looked at Ash. His face was a bruise. A cut on his forehead ,a split lip. Anger welled in her. "Ashley was a good boy, but really just another mouth to feed. I really don't care if you kill him now."

"Ouch, cold,Sara." Sorrows chuckled. Childish couldn't look Ash in his face as she took a step closer. He held a crossbow in his paws, directly aiming at Ash's head.. "One more step,I will shoot him."

"So what?" she shrugged. "He is your only pressure. If you kill him, you have nothing."

Ash was pale under the bruises,and the way he looked at her hurt her more than she would have ever confessed.

"You can be so glad James wants you alive."Galvain said. "Otherwise I would rip your tiny body apart limb from limb right here."

Alive? Good to know. In the corner of her eye ,she saw something. The shiver crept down her spine. She was pretty sure at least one of her new friends was close enough.

"If you hope I brought the book and will just come with you to have a chit chat over whiskey and cigars I am sorry to disappoint you."

"Something is wrong" Gailvan whispered.

Childish dared another step forward.

"If you don't have the book, we will just take you. "Sorrows sounded delighted by the idea. Something in Childish cringed in disgust.

"Guards!" boomed his voice. Fruitless effort, Childish knew.

"Your gun, "Sorrows urged,finger twitching on the crossbow. "Or the boy has a hole in his head."

"Fine. See? I put the gun down." She leaned down and felt the weight of her knife in her hand. Sorrows eyes followed the gun as she kicked it in the direction of the stairs.

She took a blink of an eye to aim and threw, hoping for a bullseye.

At the same moment she heard a sizzling sound. A crossbow bolt struck the henchman in the head, and he fell down.

The knife hit Sorrows in the throat. He made a strange gurgling sound. The he followed the unknown man, blood gushing from the wound.

She hadn't aimed for that. But luck had guided her hand once more.

The next moment was a blur.

Ash had enough common sense duck away, but he still wasn't fast enough, as Gailvan tried to grab him. Childish jumped forward, sprinting the three steps, colliding her whole body with Gailvan.

"Go!" she screamed, gasping, as the air was knocked out of her lungs and Gailvan punched her in the face so hard she saw stars.

Ash's green eyes fixed on her, he wavered.

"Go!" Childish tried to repeat, but Gailvan was upon her. They rolled down the two stairs, landing in the dirt, flakes of dust swirling around them.

Gailvan's big hands gripped her neck. She kicked at him. Her knee making contact with his groin. He grunted and let go of her, but not for long. With all her might she pushed forward, against him. Her teeth dug deep into his nose.

Biting off someone's nose was not as easy as one might think. It consists mainly out of grist. Not easy but not impossible.

Gailvan screamed, trying to get her off. Her whole body pounded under his hits. She felt her ribcage explode with pain under the staccato of his fists.

She held onto his face as much as she could. Wet,hot copper filled her mouth. Then she felt a plop,and there was something solid in her mouth. Gailvan had stopped screaming.

Childish stood up, spitting the flesh out.

He didn't move. Breathing weakly.

Dizzy, she left . The street was a blur. She didn't felt Ash's arms wrapping around her.

There,in the corner of her eye,only for a second was Daud's back. She was glad he had kept his side of the bargain. Tears started to well up in her eyes,but she couldn't cry.

She hugged Ash tightly,whispering promises and apologies.


	8. Chapter 7

**[AN] Before people think I am not updating this anymore. I really want to and I am sorry for the shortness of the last chapters and my lack of updates the last month! Thanks for the review masterofnoodles, may your gracious noodlesness read this! I hope you like it,and I love that you love Childish!**

* * *

The wood was old and full of cracks, but despite his heavy boots it made little to no sound. There was a little dark stain on one side of his coat. Water, mixed with mud? Blood? Maybe both or nothing.

And it made little difference to him anyway. It was not like anyone had seem him today. Looks were for people moving through the crowd, trying to catch an eye. He was no fool. A flower was as pretty as she was poisonous. But at least flowers were trampled down easily. People were much the same.

The house smelled of salt ,water and dirt, like most times. It wasn't bad. It was the ocean and the way the sea smelled and had always smelled. There were things unchanged and old as the world and the smell of the sea was one, was familiar and it accompanied stories of the past. Stories of travels and ships, of songs and tears and love. Stories as old as the ocean itself or as young as the fish swimming in it.

The water of the river, that was something else. Stories of Dunwall were more or often the same.

Murder, Betrayal and intrigues. Even the fish were after blood in Dunwall.

Since his return he hadn't stayed in any house longer than months. Still he knew he wouldn't want to be in any other town.

The book was whispering in his room, he could feel the dark clouds of its power, its promise luring, hidden tentacles to drown the person daring to claim it.

He had known about its power the moment he had laid eyes on it in Hecate Jones room. She had kept it in a safe, but even then he could have just taken it from her.

But he didn't. He wondered why. It had almost been like someone or something had asked him not to,to see what happened. And then he had noticed the lock.

Jones claimed to know nothing about it. She was sly, and useful, and she didn't lie.

That was when that woman had come into his life. She was as obnoxious as she was tough, he had to admit that. And she owed him a key.

The sooner, the better, a part of him thought. Get that nuisance out of your life.

With all their connections to one another and the knowledge of her old name, she wouldn't get far away if she tried to fool him.

But maybe she wouldn't even try. The way she had looked at the boy told him there was at least some decency in her. She wouldn't run away without him. He was as loyal to her as she to him. And he knew about loyalty.

Beside the books whisper was something else. Not one of his. He would have known if one of them was close, they didn't sneak around him. Also none would creep along side someone keen as them. Still, someone was stupid enough to trespass.

A little sound from his room.

As he moved upstairs someone was clearly shifting in his room. Sheets were rustling, and a bottle made a little clanking sound as someone took it.

He smelled her first. He remembered her smell from their first encounter. Sharp clean, like someone scrubbed very long with soap, her clothes had smelled of the canals.

She was lounging on his bed, with the audacity to smile. For a moment he just stared at that woman, freckled smirk and bottle in her hand.

'You have a serious security breach, 'she said. That smug look again. He wasn't sure if anyone could find that endearing, but she certainly was self confident. Her hair was wet.

'You swam through a flooded cellar just to tell me that?'

' Don't sell yourself so short, Daud.' She was wet and unwanted in his room and had the audacity to wink. He didn't know if he was amused or angry.

Too confident. He wondered how she could survive acting like this. He stood by the bed, deciding if it was worth the hassle to throw her out.

* * *

There was no doubt in Childish heart she would loose this fight, as she sat up, focusing as good as she could through the pain of her bruised ribs. Her mind was a little blurry, and she took a sip from the bottle in her hand.

 _No doubt. Only Daud._

If someone would have heard her thoughts they would slap her for her weak word plays. So she was content in drinking and staring at him as he stared back.

One could think, she mused, someone with as much wealth and money would aim for a better drink. And a cleaner home. But then again it was not like he could employ servants.

Maybe one of the whalers did clean up?

Ooh,she took another sip from her bottle. That'd be a sight to behold. A maid in a whalers mask.

'Wonderful day, isn't it?'

'I hope you are here to give me what I want.'

' Ah, but what exactly is it you want, my friend? '

She wiggled her eyebrows. All he did was huff at her. Like she was a mere annoying thing and not the most glorious guest one could have. How very unfair!

'Did you hear I bit off a man's nose?'

'Is that why you lounge in my bed? To talk about dismembered body parts?'

'And here I forgot who I bragged to.' She sighed but he merely stared as she stretched her feet, letting go of the bottle. ' Daud, my friend, relax, I remember our agreement.'

She grabbed the chain , resting cold and neatly tied to her pants. His eyes were on her every move. She was lucky he hadn't been there in the first place. He probably would have just kicked her right back into the water.

'You can have it, fair and easy, I guess. But I wonder..' As her fingers played with the delicate crafted spirals of the key. Ash had given it to her mere hours after his return. It had been in the warehouse all along. A thought she found quite amusing. So close all the time.

Without as much as a breath he grabbed the chain from her hands.

'I am not going to play guard for you, Sara Verley.'

Meh, that name again. How she had grown to hate it.

'Daud, I thought we agreed you wouldn't call me that.'

'Childish.' He said and she felt something in her stomach twist with excitement. 'I am not going to play guard for you. And now get out of my bed.'

'But-'

His hand lingered close to his sword. Flinging herself off his bed she scrambled over her feet to get to the door.

'Allright. I am sorry. Please don't kill me.'

He almost looked unnerved. She liked that very much. That man was hard to read. And annoying was oddly entertaining. She felt like a child, holding her hand over a candle. So close to burning herself.

'Despite rumours I don't kill everyone just because they annoy me.'

The city, she mused, would be empty if he did.

'You wound me.' She whined. Clutching her heart with one hand, very careful about her movements. ' I was sure I meant something to you.'

'You don't.'

How assuring, she thought. Then , without another word, she started to slip to the door.

Before she could move he was at her side, his arm closing around her hip far from gently. He was tugging her shirt up.

'What the-' she tried to wiggle free but his grip was tight .

''Maybe you do want something else. 'She suggested as his calloused hands found her waistband. He yanked the book off of her.

'Nice try.' She had thought so too.

'What can I say,' he let go off her after eyeing her bruised ribs, and she thought his grip was at least a tad less brutal.' I have twitchy fingers.'

'This doesn't serve your credibility.'

His seriousness and the almost gruff way he looked at her made her laugh.

'It does not? I am a thief, after all.'

'Then do your business elsewhere.'

'Fine. You know where to find me if you change your mind. I am sure I could make your time worthwhile.' They gave each other a last look.

Suddenly she didn't feel bold anymore. 'Thank you. For helping me. And getting Ash Out of there.'

'We had a deal, had we not?'

'Still. Most people give a rat shit about deals and...'

She squirmed a little under his glance.

'I get it. Now leave before your hands get twitchy again.'

By the Outsider- was he mocking her? With a nod she left the room.

Her hands felt the leather pouch she had snatched of him earlier. Wasn't what she had intended but it did prove he didn't notice everything. Which was a relief.

There was also a certain charm in the fact he would pay for her very fancy dinner today.


	9. Chapter 8

'This is not normal chicken.' Ash's eyes narrowed. Childish stood proud and tall at the table. She reminded Crispin of a cat that had hunted down a bird. Content and smug.

'It's a chicken that _ate_ another chicken.' He exclaimed.

Crispin was studying her frame closely, from the ugly new hat with that stupid feather on her hat to the new grey coat. A curious ensemble that didn't spoke much for her sense of fashion. But,he guessed, after years of wearing nothing but old simple trousers and shirts too big, there wasn't much left. And she had dared to mock his hat for years.

She looked like the ghost of a pirate captain haunting his favourite barrel of ale. 'You like it? Fancy, right?'

'It is.' Crispin forced himself to say. 'Where did you get the money? Took something down without me?'

'Would ,never dream of that, good sir.' Her hand tipped at her hat. 'It was a gift. The money, not the chicken, that is.'

'And who was that generous patron of yours?'

Her hands flapped the chickens wing in a disgraceful gesture , resembling even more a cat playing with the spoils of its hunt.

She bristled.'Daud.'

'Daud?' Crispin repeated.' As in Daud the assassin?'

'That Daud?' Ash chimed in. 'The one you wanted the key for? Why are you wet?'

'He gave you a lot of money..for nothing?'

'Well technically he didn't _give_ it to me.' Her hands juggled with a tomato. 'It's more like I took it.'

'You stole from the blighted knife of Dunwall? Woman have you gone mad?'

'No, we are fine, Crispin. She turned to Ash. 'I needed to swim through a flooded basement. Diving and all. But he got the key.'

'So you are even?'

'I'd say we are friends. 'she was sounding rather enthusiastic. Something about that didn't sit right with him.

Crispin couldn't believe the way these two discussed something like that. Ash wasn't the least bit concerned. 'You broke into his place and stole from him?'

'I see it more as an exchange.' She touched the poor chicken again. The way she handled it ,it could be glad to have died before. 'You worry too much. I was in his bed and he didn't kill me, that means something, doesn't it?'

'His bed? You-'

'Good grief Crispin no! _No_!' The chicken hit the plate again with a loud 'thoud!' as she reached out and slapped his arm.'We did not shag! We had a talk, that's all!'

Ash had moved in closer to her and slowly started to sort through the whole mess of vegetables,bread,and other more exotic food. 'You have a plan with all this?' he asked. Since his return he was even more gentle and forgiving with Childish. Not one of her moves seemed to irritate him. He was just going along.

He wouldn't talk about what had happened with him before she had saved him, but his body and the way his eyes shifted sometimes said more than enough.

'I...uhm... _maybe_ I have a general idea? 'she offered.

'Does it involve that poor chicken being tortured and overcooked beyond hell?' Ash smiled, though in his still swollen green and violet face it was hard to see proper.

Childish shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

'You two are made for each other. 'Crispin shook his head in an exhausted manner.

'Of course we are.' Childish started to juggle another tomato in one hand, egg in another. 'I have raised him well.'

There was something irking him deeply in the way she moved and spoke, but he couldn't pinpoint it. Sweat was glistening on her brow under that atrocious hat.

As Ash got to work on the food, Childish following juggling. 'Watch me, 'she cried. 'I can do three, this time I can do-'

The egg splattered around the dirty floor.

* * *

They had repaired the warehouse as best as possible. A door was easy to fix. Trust was not. Everytime wind was shaking a window or rain was gushing against the door ,Ash flinched a little, and Childish felt the need to dig Gailvan and Sorrows out of the cold grave to kick them in the teeth.

They should have moved . She was sure Crispin would have been able to relocate them. But she didn't want to. This was her home. This was the room she had found herself waking up on the first morning of her new life. This was Ash's and her place to sit, laugh and tell stories after a long day.

Childish's eyes wandered to the bottles she had brought home too, neatly stocked and hidden from Crispin's attention.

Something pricked in a corner of her mind. She felt exposed, knowing they could waltz in anytime. But now that she had killed Galvain and Sorrows and decimated his henchmen, James ought to understand he shouldn't mess with her.

She drank too much. She knew it. She didn't want to, but it felt good and easy. And didn't she deserve good and easy, at least for now?

Later, she promised herself. Not now. Stay a little sharp. You need it.

As she watched him cook in their makeshift kitchen/living room, fire casting shadows over his features and over the deep cut on his head, she felt guilt rising in her chest.

'I didn't think it through.' She confessed. Ash looked up from the food, half a smile till on his lips.

'I see. But that's not unusual for you. You never know when to stop.'

No, she thought, it isn't, my boy.

'We could feed another ten people.' He continued.

'If I had friends I would suggest we host a banquet.' She joked, only half hearted.

'One day you'll have a banquet. 'he promised. 'Until then, stick with me.'

If she had been able to cry freely, she would have. Instead she held them back and gave his shoulder a pat. 'Sweet boy, it's my pleasure.'

For a while he worked in silence and she watched. She had never been much of a cook. She was able to produce one or two simple treats, but Ash had spend hours as a child in the kitchens with his mother. The way he worked was calm, precise and accurate.

He knew what to touch, where to cut. Even with what little dishes and spices this house had to offer. Ash was cutting away almost peaceful. She was reminded of his age, how terribly young he had been when she had dragged him along. And how young he still was.

My sweet child, she asked herself, did I really raise you well?

You got hurt because of me. I should have been there faster.

'I know what you are thinking.' Ash whispered and put the knife away. 'And yes, some of it is true. Some is not. When I was in the cage...'

Thoughts of cages were the last thing to soothe her mind.

She had never been fond of tight spaces. She could endure it to slip through or move along, because that meant she was getting out again. Being trapped in a cage on the other hand...She shuddered.

'Let's keep it neat and simple, will we,lad?'She forced a smile on her lips. 'No talks of cages. I shouldn't have let them get to you.'

Ash nodded tightly and returned to his task.

'You still didn't tell me how you got involved with someone you didn't even believe to exist.' He offered, as the silence had reached a point that made them both twitch uncomfortable.

'It's a hell of a story, so better listen well,' She leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

'So, I came home, and they taken you,yeah? I was pretty furious, so I stomped into Hecate Jones office and threatened her. And she was like 'Oh no, Childish,I don't know anything, but you are so pretty and lovable, take this, it will lead you right to the owner of the book!' And so I went, a shadow, crouching in the darkness, invisible and deadly. But still pretty beautiful. Magnificent I'd even say.'

Ash listened silently, with that good hearted sigh on his lips.

'As I went in I heard someone approach! Ah, he had thought I wouldn't notice the trap! But he was wrong! As we fought I got the better of him. Bested, he surrendered. Of course I had figured out he was not only the man holding the book but the Knife too! The clues were everywhere. But you know me, I have a soft spot and such a good heart. And so I accepted a deal. His help for the key. The rest is history, as we stormed the building and I took out several men at once with my bare hands. Oh, I bit off Galvain's nose. Almost forgot.'

'Nothing of that is true, is it?'

'I fear,' she shook her head.'You'll never find out.'

It took a few more weeks until Childish was sure Ash could cope with being alone. He had stopped sleeping on the floor and started creeping into her room, until they slept tightly woven into each other, like they never had, not even back when there was only fever, sickness and hunger. Arm in arm, pressed against each other in the cool room, the nights were bearable for him. She didn't ask and he didn't tell.

Crispin played hard to get, just dropping by to bring her something to eat or look at Ash's injuries.

'Why are you so mad at me?' she asked one day as he dropped by , ignoring her as he went by.

'I am not mad.' He finally said. 'But I dislike the way you and Ash are handling his almost certain death.'

'It's not the first time and it won't be the last.' She shrugged.' And I took care of the situation, did I not?'

'This could have all ended very terribly. 'he whispered, caressing a strand of her short hair. 'And you won't even talk about it.'

'What's done that's done, Crispin.'

'My dear friend ,if you have at least a tiny bit of care for me in your heart, just stop being impulsive and reckless.'

'I..I can't.'

'I thought so.'

'I am sorry.'

'Are you really?'

She didn't answer.

'You know I bought at least three people last week that wanted to rat you out,sell you,or even kill you? This thing is big, and not talking doesn't help.'

'The boy doesn't want to talk. And I can handle it.'

'Then handle it. Until then don't feel bothered by me.'

She stared at him, speechless for a moment. 'You are bluffing, right?'

'Try me.' He offered, giving her head a flick with his finger before turning around and leaving.

His departure left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Childish started working for Hecate Jones when she hadn't heard from Crispin in two weeks. It was nothing personal( well yes, it was) ,she told herself, but they needed to live too.

'Come to provoke again, birdie?' The older woman said after letting her rot with Dima for hours.

Childish mustered all the remaining strength in her a body and arched her back. 'I need work.'

Smoke hit her face as Hecate took her time.' What about Crispin? I thought you were like twins conjoined at the hips?'

'I am not working for him anymore. Do you have something for your favourite penny snatcher?'

'Just so. You are hired.'

'You could just go to him. He isn't really keeping away. He just wants you to come.' Ash's green eyes watched her move restless.

'No. Let's just keep low until we can move on. 'He shook his head, but didn't say anything.

It was different. No one had her back. Jones didn't care about her more than she cared about a loose cobble. She got a job, she handed it to Jones men and that was it. Sometimes she broke into manors, houses or cellars, stealing papers and letters. Sometimes she placed things in cupboards or behind false paintings, clearly a cheap way to stilt a accusation against said person.

The work was tiresome, all alone, and no one of Jones men appreciated her sparking conversations and remarks. Boring and bland. But at least Jones kept her and Ash safe. As long as Childish had value, Jones saw herself fit to protect said value. No one tried to go after them. They didn't have a death wish.

Sometimes she worked in an actual store for Jones, behind a counter, with a back room full of smuggled goods. She was tempted, but she kept herself together. Stealing from Jones was off limits as long as she needed her.

She had been relying on Crispin far too long. Never noticing her dependence. Hadn't she always told herself she needed no one? She had been utterly wrong.

Ash wanted to help as well, but she had been unmoving. She wouldn't let him get involved in any of Hecate Jones' spiel.

The last time she got to work, her target was a small house, close to the city guard. Jones had been oddly mysterious. She had just told her to get in and find it. Whatever it was. She had said it would catch her attention all too well.

It could be a shiny big stone, or a small slip of paper. Childish felt her back aching as her hands grabbed the bricks, her feet slipping in what little crack she could find, as she climbed over the wall into a small backyard.

A dead man was lying in the middle, pistol sheathed in his belt. His throat was slit neatly, a little puddle of blood and mud around him.

 _Well that certainly did get her attention_.

She ran through the yard, back to wall, getting as little cover as she got. The place was quiet.

The door was standing wide open. Another dead men fully equipped in gear and a sword lay dead behind it. The place smelled of death , coppery blood and foul air.

There was nothing alive left to watch her sneaking in.

Only dead eyes saw her moving in.

The place was utterly devoid of anything of worth. In the upper rooms were three more bodies, killed as quietly and efficient as the other.

Despite their weapons was nothing on them to identify them. Had they waited for someone? Had they guarded something? It did matter little. They were all dead and no answer could be found.

Hecate wouldn't like her coming back empty handed. Her value had just decreased.

* * *

After a tiring trip that went on for hours, the woman had turned to a certain house in Red Spot. Daud followed her with ease. She wasn't even trying to throw off eventual pursuer.

He watched her tiny back,h er trembling hands. There was no reason to care about her. A petty thief. And she had nothing he wanted .Not worth his time.

Weeks had passed with out him even thinking about her once. Until the day he had straight looked into her face. The drawing showed a slightly younger version, but there was no mistaking.

Whoever had sent those men to deal with her wasn't finished. Her chances of survival got lower by the second. Though he didn't claim the prize, he found himself wondering who would eventually.

She wasn't hard to keep track ,with that ridiculous hat of hers. It suited her bloated, obnoxious head well.

Still living in the same spot, what a bad habit. He wasn't the least surprised . And she was still just with the boy.

Her window stood wide open, and she had climbed on the windowsill, still with that big hat on her hair, legs crossed and reading.

Once or twice her eyes pried away from her seemingly amusing literature as she glanced into the direction of his where abouts. When he had just decided to leave, she looked up again, eyes narrowing a little.

„Did you change your mind?' her voice echoed over the canal and between the houses. 'Come on,I know you are there.'

It took but a blink and he saw her flinch by the window as he materialized right next to her.

'That is so bloody weird. 'she shuddered, grey eyes now fixed on him. Despite her trying to be calm he could read her body all to well. She seemed excited.

'You will die. 'he stated ,matter of factly.

She took that better than expected. 'Well, we all do.'

How daft was she? Did she truly not understand? Or didn't she care?

And why was he even caring?

'Someone wants you,and if you are dead or alive doesn't interest him.'

'You know how the saying goes, my dear, you aint someone till somebody hates you.. I guess I could try to beg for my life. Or should I be honoured?'

'I have been watching you the whole day. If I had wanted to kill you, you would be dead by now.'

„Aw,'she put the book in her lap, cradling it with her hands like a precious little pet.'You are quite smitten with me, are you not?'

He regretted entering the room . 'You are full of yourself, Childish, and you will regret it.'

'Not the first or the last man to tell me that. At least I normally get a kiss or two.' She said with the most ridiculous looping smile on her features. He gave her hat a shove and she made a dumbfounded sound. The smile was gone. That was surprisingly satisfying. 'The reward for my death is pretty tasty,innit?'

'Be glad I am not yet after it.'

'Not yet? What could you possibly want from me?' she mocked. 'The infamous Knife of Dunwall doesn't want to kill me yet. Please, pray tell, what can a humble servant do for you?'

Maybe he should just end that suffering here and now. After all he ad come here. Making his time worthwhile...

' I annoy you, 'she whispered most delighted. 'But you _care_ , for whatever reason. You magnificent bastard. _I knew it._ '

'Careful.' He warned her as she stood up. 'Maybe I change my mind. Let that head roll. And that monstrosity of a hat.'

' Ah,but where is the challenge in that? You love yourself some action,do you not? Killing an unarmed woman is no good sport. Also, leave my hat out of it.'

He had done worse ,but she had a point. Very daring, he had to give her that.

'Show a little self preservation next time you enter an unknown ground.'

A light I her eyes sparked and he knew he had said too much. ' You killed those people?'

'It was not about you.'

She gave him another loopsided grin. 'Sweet talker. Let's hope my current employer doesn't have a hand in this.'

Why is she always smiling like a madman? It made him uncomfortable, yet somehow...

'Humour me, 'she said, sitting down again.

'I thought I already did.' He heard himself retort dry. She was laughing now.

He couldn't really remember the last time he had made someone laugh.

For a while she didn't speak. He had not thought her capable ,with that mouth always quipping away. When she finally did speak, she was almost serious.

'Why did you choose killing as a way to make your living?'

'Why do you steal?' he asked back without a beat.

'Because I am good at it and-'she stopped, confused. 'Ah. Does that make us bad people?'

'Why would you care what other people think?'

'I am not sure. I shouldn't at all. But it's hard sometimes. I once wanted nothing more than belong.'

He watched the canal, leaning against the window next to her. She didn't seem to mind 'And now?'

'I don't belong.'

'If that's all you are just big talk. And I shouldn't have come to warn you.'

She chuckled. 'You're sharp as a tack, Daud. I'll give you that.'

And you are stubborn, he thought, but did not say it.

* * *

It was strange talking to him. Really talking,no just trying to be witty and beat each other.

She didn't even feel uncomfortable knowing he was watching her every move. Again ,she realised,I owe him.

She wasn't sure what to make of it. She wasn't sure what to make of _him_.

Even now that they still were here together,so close she could hear his breath in the silence,there was too much to say. Or not to.

'I need to talk to Hecate about it.' She murmured, scratching her arm.

Orange light painted shadows on his face. All angles and sharp lines,like a very dignified painting. 'Then you will run straight to your doom.'

'Maybe, maybe not, 'she mused. 'But if I don't-

'Childish, I got a message for you.'

Ash was peeking through her door.

'Yeah,let me just-' She looked back where Daud had been just a moment ago. He was gone,had vanished into thin air.

She hated it when he did that. Standing up she noticed something else. He had taken her hat.

'That bastard!'

Ash cocked his head in confusion.

'He stole my hat! Why would he steal my hat?'

Then, she got it. This was for stealing his money.

He was ,indeed, a very magnificent bastard.

As she watched the sunset now all on her own, Ash came closer.

'Jones says she is still waiting for you to bring her 'something interesting'?'

She shouldn't have gone alone that time.


	10. Chapter 9

**[AN]I wrote around 10 k,then I didn't like it,and shoved this in between. Now I need to edit the other stuff. But have no worries,I gotcha!**

* * *

Hecate Jones was her own queen on her throne, surrounded by knights with silver shining swords.

But this knights were not bound by any honour. They would smite Childish down the moment her breath sounded too loud.

The older woman eyed her. No more friendly games. This was the real deal. Her room seemed small with the men at her side. Childish looked around. A woman with a mean looking knife and Dima leaned at the door, all faces void of any emotion. He may had a soft spot for her, but he wouldn't move a finger now.

It was too hot. Her lips were terribly dry.

Smoking relaxed and eerie, Hecate leaned a little forward.

The queen would judge, and if she didn't like what she saw in front of her cushioned chair,she wouldn't hesitate.

'Where is it?'

'Pardon me?' Childish felt herself shift, sweat on her brow.

'My bird. Remember how I told you I could eat you?'

'Yes. It involved you breaking an agreement for your own enrichment.' The way the woman on the doorstep shifted told her she better watch her mouth. But she couldn't.

'Can we stop playing the pronoun game and get right to the point?'

 _You are full of yourself and you will regret it._

Hecate Jones lips were pressed together in a thin line that spoke of her dwindling patience.

She was grateful Crispin had abandoned her sinking ship. She hoped Ash would get to him if they cut her off and put her sliced remains into the river.

'You are not lying, are you?'

'If I swear on something, will you believe me?'

The room got hotter by the second. Childish curled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking.

'Acting so tough, poor little thing.' Jones said, to no one in particular. 'I would give you a pass, you know that. I always liked you. Crispin and you were such a nice pair.'

Enough of your fake grandmothers advice, Childish swallowed. All this show was just to terrify her. And it worked.

'Here is the catch, 'Jones said. 'He is not here to help you. Last chance, my birdie.'

Childish crossed her arms. 'I know nothing.'

Hecate furrowed her brow. 'Unfortunate. Warim,Lev,hold her.'

The both guards moved toward her in an instant, and Childish staggered back. Their arms were like iron shackles, holding her arms, bending her body.

'I need her hand. 'Hecate Jones said, slowly standing up to move around the desk. 'Which hand do you favour, bird?'

Childish made a sound that was something between a scream and a breathless answer. One of the guards forced her hand forward as she kicked and shook as hard as she could, without much effect.

They were as unmoving as stone.

'You know, it was a tradition once, cutting off a thiefs fingers. I'll only take one or two, I still need you able to work, don't you think?'

'Aneja,your knife. 'Her henchwoman strode through the empty space and handed her the mean looking jagged blade.

The tears were closer then ever.

'They pinkie will do. 'Jones said.

'Seriously?!'Childish yelled, curling her hands into fists. Or at least trying to. Jones cold hands were stronger than she would have anticipated.' I didn't find anything! Just dead people!'

'You have any idea who killed them?' the knife caressed her skin, from her knuckle back to her finger tip.

 _Rat him out,_ a voice urged _her. He will be fine, this is your chance, girl._

But she couldn't. She even was disgusted by the thought of it.

 _Is loosing your finger worth it? You don't even know him._

But that was the problem. He cared about her, for whatever reason, and she wanted to know him. She owed him bad. If she just saved her hide what would that care be worth?

'I don't know anything. 'she managed to say.' Let's get this over with.'

For a moment the older woman studied her closely. Then she gave a wink with her hand and Childish got released.

She almost dropped on the floor, breathing heavy.

'My protection does not come by nothing,birdie,so better be careful. I'll expect you around the next days. There is still work to do.'

She kept her. She couldn't believe it. Jones was keeping her? Her heart fluttered in her chest.

 _She expects you to thank her,girl,come one. Give her your best impression._

 _Smile for the queen._

'I won't forget this. 'she said. And she wouldn't. She was still terrified. By Jones, by the warning, she wanted to break down and scream, but she wouldn't. She couldn't. Not here, in front of this people. And not ever.

Anger flowed in, replaced the fear. Her head was cold and clear.

Hecate took her seat behind her desk again.

'You better not. And now leave. Before I change my mind.'

Ice water pumping through her veins, she quietly stepped outside.

'You know,'Aneja said, cocking her head. 'We could just turn you in ourselves.'

Dima was silent.

'Try, and we will see what happens,'. Childish dared. Then she spat on the ground.

Aneja lounged at her, pinning her against the wall.

All that Dima did was stare at his feet,still pityful. Childish regretted looking for his help and Anejas fist made contact with her jaw. She gasped at the pain that spread through her face, but struggled again, biting into Anejas ear with all the force she could muster.

A sharp, burning sensation spread along her cheek and the crook of her neck. Nails buried deep inside her flesh. She didn't let go of the ear. On of them would loose. And Childish knew she wouldn't be the one to give up.

Then Dima finally moved, holding her tight around her waist and shoulder. The woman hissed at her in a language she didn't understand. But it sounded all the same, despite the linguistic barrier.

Death threats, mean words, foul language, nothing but venom spit on her direction. Well, there was one even more universal language.

Childish raised her hand and flipped her off.

Dima moaned. 'Please leave. 'he said ,and she was glad to oblige.

As she left the house, she broke into a sprint.

Still, she couldn't shake off the feeling to be followed.

* * *

He didn't know what drove him back so soon. She wasn't pretty nor charming. She straight out irritated him from the day he had met her the first time. She couldn't keep her mouth shut.

Maybe he came back to see if she had been stupid enough to go to Jones. And if she had made it out. Which he found doubtful.

The weather had turned again. The sky was grey in all its glory, little drops of rain trying to wash away the mud and dirt turned roads and canals into puddles and impenetrable swamps.

A few boats were rocking down and forth the water as he passed by.

Clad in grey, indistinguishable from the sky, a small figure was hammering away on a window, building something that resembled a very twisted barricade.

The boy was close by, watching him with eyes that showed a mix of distrust and admiration. Something he was used to by now.

As Daud approached her, the boy retreated without a word, glaring one last time.

Protective, he thought. But that won't be enough to save yourself or her.

Childish didn't stop the hammering. Her movements were frantic, but not very practiced. He had never seen someone putting in nails with so much hate or anger.

'You are alive.' He said.

As she whirled around, hammer in one hand, a nail in her mouth, her eyes seemed to dance with an amused light.

Angry red marks were lined up against her skin. She spit the nail out into her hand.

'And you used the road. Like a normal person.' She looked pleased by that. What exactly did she think he was doing all day? Prancing around roofs?

'I told you it wouldn't end well.' No question needed. The marks were enough to proof it.

'Well, what can I say, people love to take a shit on me.'she chuckled, midly amused. He leaned against the wall as she continued working, blocking a window with planks.

She was too small to reach all up, even on her toes, but didn't ask for help.

Stubborn until the end, he thought.

Which was presumably very soon, judging from the money on her head. Or the way she held the plank and the hammer.

' People wouldn't shit on you if you wouldn't behave ridiculous around them.' He huffed.

'What, you don't find it charming?' she batted her lashes. 'Behaving is boring. But thanks for worrying. I appreciate the sentiment.'

'I am not worried.' He said, but wasn't sure he could persuade her or himself. Something about her had wormed a way inside of him. It was unnerving.

'Ah, again, you are breaking my heart.'

 _Clonk_. She hit the nail again, tiptoeing.

'You should leave.'

 _Clonk clonk clonk clonk._

She didn't look at him,but he saw her back tense.

' You want to get rid of me so badly?'

There was no way talking around. He stared at the angry red lines again, striding along her cheek right to her collar.

' Strangely enough, I don't.'

'Well, then I suppose you have to check on me from time to time.' There was the loopsided madwoman smile again. 'Also, I want my hat back.'

* * *

Their meetings became something almost regular, though none of them ever made the attempt to tell the other about it. Sometimes she dropped by his hideout, grinning from ear to another, quipping away.

Most of the times he just went to the warehouse. She left the window open. And was surprised whenever he used the door.

Her presence became something familiar. He didn't even know why he enjoyed it so much. Maybe it was the way she wouldn't stand down, or maybe he just liked them hopeless, like stray cats.

'Okay, 'she said, as they sat by the window, drinking. 'I have a proposal.'

'The answer is no.'

'I wasn't going to ask you to marry me, you brute, let me finish!'

Marrying her was probably not the worst proposal she had to offer, given her bad life choices. He just waited ,looking at her and drinking.

'You still owe me my hat.' She demanded with her usual audacity. 'So let's play a game. I win, I get the hat.'

Again with her hat. It was an unnatural fixation. But at least it didn't mean one or both of them to get involved in the maelstrom of another of her bad decisions.

'And what game do you propose?'

'Two lies, one truth.' She grinned mischievous.' Easy. We tell each other a lie or a truth, and after three times, we have to guess. You are right about which one is a lie and which one is the truth, you win.'

'Fair enough.' Daud leaned forward. She lifted her eyebrows in anticipation.

' My mark tells me when you lie.'

She shuddered visible, eyeing his hand.

'I once found a man fucking a donkey in his kitchen.' She said, face straight.

'I threw your hat into the river.'

'When I was younger, I was a pretty good musician.'

'I trust you.'

'I wanted to steal the book more than once when I came over to your place.'

They sized up each other in silence for a while. She wasn't as good as a liar as she may thought. Her fingers twitched often and she wanted to smile whenever she said something ridiculous.

He was sure she wouldn't be able to tell a bluff if he tried one. So far,he realised,the lies they told each other ,had been harmless. They danced around certain topics, avoiding other completely.

'So,'she chuckled.'I will never see my hat again?'

'You won't.' He took another sip.

'A shame.' She shook her head.


	11. Chapter 10 : Dirty mercy (Part 1)

**[AN]Oh god this was so much fun to write I literally had to stop writing the dialogue at some point to laugh my ass off. :D DON'T SHAME THE POOR TEENAGER Childish!**

* * *

The dock was brimming with life.

The sound of hammers on wood. Shouting and screaming , people and seagulls alike.

There was a foul smell of death, of coppery metal, fire and sweat, battling sweet scents of spices, the perfume of a woman striding by, a blur in blue and gold.

Childish stared at her own dark clothes,stained and borrowed. They itched . The were tight in all the wrong places. And though she told herself to blend in she just wanted to snug back in her pants and coat.

A wagon rattled along the street, something metal was clinking together, and mixed with the sound of the water she was again reminded of her father's chimes.

If she had stayed, she wondered, and if she had looked out for him better, how would he have been? But she had been terribly afraid of home, of his empty eyes. His whispered words.

She wondered how he had been before taking ill. There was no use in pondering. A shiver crept up her back .

 _'Does he talk to you?'_

 _Her eyes were glued to his hand, fixed on the mark. She couldn't hide the disgust that curled her lip._

 _The fact she was not disgusted by the stains on his shirt or anything else surrounding him but the mark seemed to entertain Daud._

 _'Sometimes.'_

 _She wanted to ask how. But she couldn't. Her eyes lingered on his hand like it was the jaw of a vicious animal, ready to bite her at any second. In some way, she thought, his hands were deadly. But he wouldn't use them. Not to harm her. Sure ,he had once given her a shove, but it was far from lethal._

 _Hands were tools for many things. As they took, they gave. As they could hurt, they gave pleasure. It was not his hands she was afraid of. It was the gift bestowed on them. On him._

 _It was unpredictable and strange._

' _Does it hurt?'_

 _'It does not.'_

 _Her hands were the most careful, like she might have touched a delicate lock or a sleeping kitten. As if she would burn if she came to close to the mark. There were scars on his palm, closed gaps and calloused fingers. His hand was warm, and she let her own hands remain a moment before parting._

 _'It does have a price, doesn't it?'_

 _'Everything comes with a price. ' he whispered back, dark eyes glinting, and she smiled, because she was very much aware of this truth._

Crispin's house was ahead. It arched over some smaller buildings, almost white and very clean.

She had been there once or twice, but not since he had married that awful woman.

Said woman had been helpful for his contacts, but she was poisonous in everything else. They way this woman spent money was horrendous.

All pompous, trying to be the noble she wanted to be, in fancy dresses , eating fancy cakes and wanting fancy children.

She couldn't understand what Crispin had seen in her. But whatever it had been, after a few months he retired to their warehouse again. No fancy children for her.

Now she had a dog instead. Childish could hear the little mongrel. She wasn't a dog person. The smaller the dog the more she just felt the urge to kick it.

What you did for friends, she thought, sighing, as she knocked on the door.

A maid opened, sour faced. Ah ,the madam seemed not only to annoy her husband then.

'Is Mr. Crispin here?'

She hoped she'd say yes. But she didn't. Instead she offered to get the mistress. But Childish didn't feel the need to talk to her. Better fight Aneja again or loose finger than meeting up with _that person._

Instead she decided to come back later. He couldn't be that stubborn. She was taking care of the situation. She had Jones back to protect her. She might as well find out where the spawn of all evil, the root of her problems , a bastard named James, was hiding.

As she imagined to slit his throat, seeing him drop to the floor, fingers twitching, yellow eyes wide open and lifeless like gems, she couldn't deny the effect it had on her. A warm feeling spread up in her stomach. It almost was like the thought of killing him was a lover, she longed to come close, to feel.

She wouldn't have told anyone. She had harboured this dream for so long, it was a desire. Kept shut in her head, she played through it again and again.

Not ever in her life would she hate someone so strong and deep as him.

It had been satisfying to end Galvain and Sorrows, and she didn't feel sorry, oh no. Not after seeing Ash in their hands.

She knew she was no fighter. She wasn't very skilled, nor particular strong.

The last months had changed something. Sure, running and hiding was still her most inner being. But all the anger and frustration had found a vent in all this. She'd have been lying if she would deny that was a part of why she didn't stop pestering Daud. Well,that,and because it was fun.

She moved back to the docks, following her nose to lead her to booth with baked goods. When no one was looking, she snatched herself a small pastry. Strolling along, no one seemed to notice her. And there wasn't much to look at. She found an abandoned brick wall. Her dress was all tangled up when she had finally made it up.

Hecate had degraded her to another humiliating and senseless task, watching the docks for any kind of trouble.

Trouble was everywhere. But not the kind that would be of interest. There were a sailor and a woman, haggling. A few kids in ragged clothes ,like a small pack of vicious wolves, ready to beg or steal.

She munched away on her food, tasting the still warm meat inside. As she had finished, licking her fingers, Ash found her. She had noticed him slipping out behind her. She couldn't blame him. It was a boring task, he probably was tired staying home, and she was glad to have some company.

'I see we both stole from the same poor man.' She chuckled looking at the pastry in his hand.

He smiled at her. 'I was told to use an opportunity when found.'

'Wise words. Where have you been?'

Ash shrugged. 'I went by Crispin's house, and _that person_ saw me and invited me inside.'

'You had tea with her majesty?' Childish said with her most regal nasal voice.

Ash scratched the fresh pink scar on his head. 'He hasn't been there for weeks, Childish. I am worried.'

'He is never there. It doesn't mean much. Let him sulk.'

Ash seemed reassured by her and started eating.

A while they just sat in silence, looking over people, boats and letting the world go on.

'You spent an awful lot of time with..' he hesitated for a moment.' With a certain someone.'

Childish found herself snickering. 'You can say his name. He won't appear behind you if you do.'

Ash seemed not so sure about it. He wasn't looking at her, clearly regretting his choice of topic.

' Are you in love with him?'

She almost fell from her spot on the wall. 'Wait? What?'

'I don't know, you seem always pretty happy to have him around.' Ash seemed not only regretting but out right embarrassed.

Childish broke down into a fit of laughter, feeling tears in her eyes. She couldn't stop laughing. 'I am happy when you are around, that doesn't mean I want to snog you!'

'Yeah,but you raised me. He-'

'Please stop.' She accomplished to say between two breathy chuckles.'Please,boy, this is-ahahaha-I don't even know what it is.'

Ash pouted, his ears red.

' All right,I got this. Huh.' She steadied herself. ' To answer your question:' another wave of laughter shook her. Her ribs hurt.' I am not in love with Daud. Not even remotely. And I can promise I will not run away with him. I mean, can you imagine?'

' No.' Ash murmured.

'I come home from a long day of looting and stealing, and there he is,' she sighed, Ash looked like he wanted to drown himself to get away. 'And we are both so glad another day of killing and lynching is over to get it on. AHH, yes, Daud,' Childish slung her arms around herself, making the most disturbing kissing sounds Ash had ever heard.

Any passer-by would have probably found it strange to find a woman making out with herself on a wall.

'Please stop.' Ash muttered, utterly disturbed. Something in him seemed to die.

'Mhm?' Childish stopped her impressive acting. 'You get my drift now,ya,lad? It's not happening. So don't worry. I am too much, even for a man that can slice your throat open with a spoon.'

'Yes. I am very sorry for asking.'

'You better be. 'she snorted.

Ash seemed to think hard about something. 'You think he can slice someone's throat with a spoon?'

'Probably. I wouldn't bet against it.'

* * *

'You seem to be in a good mood.' Dima said as Childish moved along his side to Jones' office, whistling so awful out of tune, it sounded like a bird crashing against a window.

Not thanks to you, she thought. But still smiled.

'I am here for report,Sir.'she saluted him mocking.

He didn't know what to make of that.

Boring, she decided.

'She is waiting.' He swallowed hard. 'And she isn't as joyful as you.'

 _Ah, why? Trouble holding her territory? I do so hope she isn't going to get overthrown._

Jones was indeed in pretty foul mood.

She still had the two men at her side. What, Childish wondered, made her so nervous she displayed men out on the open? She had never done that before.

'Something you want to tell me, my bird?'

Childish shrugged. 'Nothing of importance.'

'Someone told me you left your post and visited the poor Mrs. Crispin.'

She knew? How many people had been lurking around the place?

'Don't look at me like that.' With a snap of a match stick she lit one of her cigarettes.

'Your visit was pointless. He won't come to anyone's rescue, I'd wager.'

Her heart skipped a beat. 'What did you do?'

' I did nothing. But he is gone. For the better, probably. He undermined competition for long enough. People weren't happy. And you got Hatchet killed too! That man was a sweetheart.'

It was like someone had dragged the carpet from under her feet. He had asked her to be careful,and he had been so worried. And now..he was dead. Rotting away somewhere.

One her guards nodded in agreement. 'He was.'

Hecate wipped around, grabbing the guards arm. Boy, she was pissed. Childish didn't like this in the slightest.

'Did I tell you to speak, Warim?'

Her glowing cigarette lingered over his bare flesh.

'No Ma'am.' He gulped.

Watching him squirm was no fun. Childish cleared her throat.'so, Jones, what now?'

'I won't hurt you, if that is what you are thinking.' She felt breath released she wasn't aware she had been holding.

She eyed Childish closely. Her guards were too. She didn't like the way the pack was on her scent. One wrong word, one move, and Hecate would let them loose. And they would hurt her bad.

' But I really don't see any more value in our association if you cannot obey and follow orders.'

That earned Jones a shaking laugh. She ought to know Childish wasn't very obedient for authorities.

'No second chances then?'

'You had your second chance, dear bird. Spread your wings and fly as fast as you can.' Hecate exhaled another cloud of smoke.

'How colourful.' Childish swallowed hard. 'Was that a threat?'

Hecate shook her head, and for a moment she was like the gruff business woman Childish had sat a and drank with, hearing her complain and ramble. 'A warning. _**Your clock is ticking ,Sara.**_ '

Childish felt her blood freeze in her veins.

'And now, if you would be so free' Hecate dismissed her almost courtly.' Dima will escort you outside. Should you remember where my belongings are, tell me. Otherwise we will just loot your corpse.'

 _ **Tick Tock Sara**_

The image of Hatchet's head. The words carved in his head. This was no coincidence.

She shouldn't have stayed. Daud had been right all this time.

She really was a fool.

* * *

This was all wrong. Nothing of this should have happened. She should have been _free_.

Hadn't killing Galvain's and Sorrows had been enough to remind that bastard she was not ever going to retreat and surrender to him? What was all the hiding good for?

Crispin was missing and presumably dead and she had no clue how or why or who. But she knew it was her fault. He had been good to her. He had been there when no one ever had been. He had shown mercy and all he had gained was this. This wasn't fair.

She had never complained, she knew how life was, but this just proved her one thing: the world was rotten to the core. And this people would never change.

It had started to rain by the time she arrived at the warehouse. Not tiny droplets to cool your face, but a full blown storm. Wind tugging on her clothes, threatening with its full force by rattling shutters, howling in the alleys.

In the cold, fluid darkness, she saw shadows everywhere.

Ash opened to her fists pounding the door.

'What happened?'

'Get your things. Now.' She breathed heavy, legs burning as she made her way upstairs.

'Childish?' his voice was concerned. 'What happened?'

'We have to leave.'

She was still moving. If she stopped, she knew she wouldn't be able to carry on.

Ash grew more concerned every second.

She slipped some of her belongings into her pockets.

Ash stood in the doorway, he had just recovered and wasn't even barely back to his old self. She could feel his breath stutter and his body flinch at every little sound.

'Crispin is missing.'

His eyes widened. 'What? Oh no..you think..?'

 **Tick tock**.

'I don't know what to think.'

Don't panic, she told herself. You're the adult. You have to keep in control.

But this. This was all to large. She couldn't control anything without knowing what had happened. And she didn't have the contacts or the experience Crispin would have shown.

She should have watched more closely, taken notes, made friends. But she hadn't.

Jones would turn her in the next time she saw her around. But she had to know something.

Her feet slipped over the wooden floor as she pried one of the boards of and grabbed a leather pouch, handing it to him.

'You have to find a safe place. Jones turned on me. She isn't going after us, but who knows how much she was paid. She won't help.'

She couldn't think, her head was spinning in panic.

 _A list. Make a list._

'You are coming with me.' Ash said, grabbing her arm.

'No ,no, you don't understand, if he finds me, he won't stop hurting you. They had you before. I can't-'

I can't loose you again.

'Where would I go without you?' he sounded grave, still holding her arm.

'You are smart. I know you can get through. '

'No.' He just said.

There was a sound . Was she paranoid?

'Then get your things.' She whispered.' And run off with me, sweet boy. Now.'

They staggered through the streets, out of breath, and their hearts beating in their ears to the staccato of their steps.

The rain hit their faces like sharp cold needles. Lightning illuminated a part of the canal, showed a boat rocking heavily. Thunder roared.

They had lived in cellars and backyards before, it was no different now. Running through mud and water, feet splashing water up, they made their way through the city. Until, past midnight, they found shelter.

The place was full of mud and it reeked of some dead animal that had crawled in to die.

They moved in close to each other, half asleep , shivering. ,and exhaustion took them.

The day dried their clothes. Ash was pale. They shared one blanket at their little make shift fire. The smoke was gathering, the windows were too small, but it was better than freezing.

She couldn't shake off all the bad thoughts completely, but at least she was able to look ahead.

'We need money.' She said.

Ash leaned his head against her shoulder.

'And then we leave this shithole of a town behind. We could go somewhere warm. It'll be nice, you see. No one will know us.'

'And Crispin?' he asked.

'I don't think..Ash..' Could she just proclaim him dead? He was, most likely. A small part of her didn't want to believe it. Wanted to stomp right into Jones place and demand answers.

'Does he mean so little to you?'

The boy was angry. She could understand better than anyone else.

With a defeated sigh,she stood up, draping the blanket around him.

'No you are right.' She couldn't just leave, could she? There were things keeping her, promises made.

'But I can't just waltz right into Jones place and get what I need.'

His shoulders slumped down.' I guess not. I mean, if you could fly on her roof,maybe,but her house is heavily guarded.'

Fly on her roof, he said. Now there was an idea.

She kissed his head. Such a smart boy.

* * *

She couldn't go straight to him. There had to be more to the plan. She was not outright stupid.

She remembered the way Jones had threatened to burn the hand of her guard.

This could go very bad. But it could also work. Who better bring justice to the big fish than the small ones, flocking together?

She had to be very careful. As Childish crept through the streets she felt still watched. Working for Jones had been a mistake. But not only for her. Jones had exposed enough to calculate her moves. It would be like a game of chess. The queen was on her place. Time to beat the other figures first,so the board was ready to get conquered.

And Childish had the advantage to make the first move.

* * *

She still felt watched. But when she crouched into the small shutter, preparing herself with a deep breath, she knew she was safe, at least for now.

The cold water enveloped her like a carapace, drove away every confused and panicked thought. Made her head crystal clear.

She emerged again, shaking her head and blinking.

Ash would be fine. He needed to be.

She wasn't here to loose her head. Well, maybe a little bit.

Please be here,she pleaded, please don't do something a magicky assassin usually does.

What did magicky assassins usually do?

It was almost morning by now. Still dark, not yet prepared to wake everyone up.

Magical assassins,as she found ,did things like normal people sometimes.

They shaved,for example.

When she bounced through the door , clothes and hair drenched she was slammed into the wall with brutal force,a razor blade gracing her cheek ,cold but gentle like a kiss.

Funny was, she didn't feel threatened the least. She was the most relaxed in days.

'I thought we were past this?' she asked nonchalantly, still breathing hard. 'Its not the worst way to greet someone. Though I could think of a better way to slam someone into a wall.'

He brushed her off by letting go.

When she looked around she was delighted to see her hat resting at his bedside.

' I hate it but you were bloody damn right all this time. About Jones. About everything.'

He seemed glad he did. She snorted. He returned to his task, casting glances at her side in the mirror.

'You found some common sense.' He muttered, hand and razor moving with precision along his jaw.

'Don't cut yourself.' She mused and moved closer. There was a fleck of white on his ear. Her finger brushed over it slowly. He flinched a little.

'I need you.' She confessed. One of his brows went up ever so slightly.

'No, really.' She continued. 'I need to get out of this clothes, or I will catch a cold. But after that, I need your help.'

A moment of silence passed between them. 'OH, 'she realised.'Oh, oh no. Not like that. I mean, funny thing,I just told Ash,well,he asked me if-'

'Get to the point.' He cut her off, as he finished shaving.

'I need you to get me into a place.'

' Don't try giving me that look.' He huffed. Her eyes got even more bigger.

'What look?'

'Like a kicked puppy.'

' I am not a kicked puppy!' she felt seriously wounded.' You cheated on the game, by the way. It was one truth,two lies,not three lies and no truth. You kept the hat. I thought we were friends!'

She could feel him hesitating. He clearly wasn't up to get involved. But he would. There was no doubt as he threw a shirt at her face.

She smirked a little.

'You up for a heist?'


	12. Chapter 11: Dirty mercy (part 2)

_**[AN]I hate this chapter so much,I am probably going to take it down and rewrite this and some other parts soon.**_

* * *

 _Why don't you throw her out?_

Her grey eyes poked up at him from under her hat, as she sat, again, on his bed, legs crossed. She was barefoot and her toes were constantly twitching, moving up and down like the tail of a hunting cat.

'It's not as bad as it sounds.' She promised, and he knew it would be worse than that.

She didn't even offer to pay him. She just asked. What was it, about her, that he didn't even mind as much?

She read his silence as refusal.

'Listen, I didn't come up with this on a whim.' She leaned forward, hand on the brim of her hat.' Well okay maybe I did at first. But I put some thought in it. I know I can't just go on Jones office and shoot everyone. Your part in this would be small.'

 _Because apart from their deal, she had never asked for anything. She had just talked and joked and laughed, making the world more ridiculous._

'Go on.' He said and sat down next to her, keeping her fingers and the corner of her lips in his focus.

'I have been drinking with two of her men. Well, they drank, I just sat there. Point is, drunk men like to boast. And they feel superior to me. A complete misinterpretation. But I wouldn't complain. They told me about a locked door next to Hecate's office. She has a secret safe in there. I bet that's where she keeps the really juicy information. That's what I need.'

He shifted slightly, but she didn't notice, she wasn't paying much attention to him in her excitement, blabbering away.

He had noticed that before

She got even more chatty and quippy whenever she was excited or about to get exposed to danger.

A woman choosing her name as a pun was worse enough, he wouldn't share his observation with her.

Oh I don't have much to expose, she would have gloated, proudly. But you can try and we'll see where this goes, hohoho.

'And how exactly do you plan to open this safe?'

There was a twinkle in her eye as she smiled triumphantly. 'Asking the right questions, I see. You don't want to know how, but I got one of the them to leave me the combination. It should be hidden in a false bottom in a drawer in one of the guest rooms on the second floor. Somewhere in this house are information about Crispin's where abouts. I know it.'

'I am not going to help you.'

Her face fell in an instant. 'What?!'

'If this is only about your friend, you can be sure he is quite dead.'

'You don't know that!'

He did. But he wouldn't tell her. Something in him disliked the thought of telling her. When he had met her, on the same evening, he had been close to asking her, to tell her, but when she had laughed and smiled, making a terrible joke about his crumbled collar. It would have been cruel to just tell her . He was a killer, but cruelty gave him nothing. As weeks passed, he had brought himself to justify his fixation on his need to keep her close. And she had never mentioned her friend.

It was foul and it was not what he normally did. He didn't care who he killed. One face or another. So why care about a deed done by someone other? Just not to hurt her?

He still shifted his gaze away from her frame.

He felt the way she was staring at him, as if he would suddenly change his mind, pledging his service to her.

She would still go. And she would die all alone.

If she survived, she would know.

 _I thought we were friends!_

He sighed. 'I get you there. Not more, not less.'

With a triumphant chuckle she took his hand, squeezing it gently. 'I'll make it worth your while. Promise.'

* * *

Ash was a smouldering pit of unforgiveness. She could feel his frustration radiate as she checked her pockets for the second time.

'Brooding won't change my mind.' She said, making sure her boots were tightly laced. No stumbling. Everything has to be smooth.

'I am not brooding.' He crossed his arms, blocking her way.

'And I am named Lady Marlene , and I live in a fancy mansion in Karnaca with my twenty cats. Move your arse, lad.'

'It's not fair! I watched the house all day and now I have to stay back in this _hole_?!'

'Correct. Because I am breaking into a very, very, dangerous place, filled with dangerous people.'

'You are going with Daud.'

She didn't take any of it, staring him straight in the eyes. 'Oh remind me, can _you_ do some magic taradiddle to get me in a roof?'

That got him good. He crumbled, returning to his place in the corner, still sour faced.

'That's what I thought, my boy. Now let's be good and wait for me.'

* * *

'Please, I want you to hold me like it means something.'

A flickering in his eyes told her he wanted nothing more than to shove her right off into the river. The wind was blowing her short strands of hair around, her hood had fallen off, defeated, and she felt drops of water dripping right into her collar.

Childish couldn't place him since their last meeting, it was weird. He hesitated more often, and what was this look?

She knew he didn't want to be here. And she even felt a little guilty for asking him.

'If you let go,' he said ,as Childish pulled her scarf over her chin and tugged herself into his arm, holding onto his coat. 'You'll end up with a cracked skull.'

He didn't have to tell her. Without a warning she felt herself move through the air. The world was spinning. In a blur the roof was gone, her feet were treading through air. She couldn't scream,but that didn't stop her stomach from twisting violent and her heart from racing. As their feet were on steady ground again, she tumbled, still holding on his coat.

'No, no no' was all she could whisper before they moved again along the air. Now she felt positively sick.

The world was spinning so fast she couldn't keep her eyes open. This was not at all how she had imagined this. She would have climbed ten roofs and fought a hundred guards instead of this.

Still a hand clutched around his coat she turned her head ,loosening her scarf, and puked. There wasn't enough food in her stomach to provide a full blown stream ,but it still was awful. Her throat hurt and her head was still spinning.

'It gets better. 'his voice was only a whisper, but it gave her a sense of direction, she straightened herself. 'Or so I've heard.'

She swallowed hard, forcing her head to focus. Letting go of his coat, she took a few wobbly steps, trying to breath.

'Thanks. I guess. You can move along if you want now.'

He gave her a shove, and she slipped, almost fell, only to see him gone, to the other side of the roof.

That's about as much as I am worth to him, she thought before looking up.

The woman with the knife ,Aneja, had climbed, probably alarmed from her puking. Her eyes lit up with recognition as she saw Childish.. But before she was even able to say something Daud's arms were around her neck. She struggled, until her body went limp. Childish watched him closely. It was almost methodical. She wondered how many people he had strangled in his life to get his hands to act so relaxed.

A much younger version that had not been tainted with lies and violence would have find this repulsive. She would have get worked up. Now there wasn't much left of young Sara Verley, that had died the day she had stolen and lied to run away.

It was not like she didn't care. She just didn't care _as much._

'You think so?' he said and tossed her body aside.

Staring at Anejas lifeless form didn't mean anything to her. She was just another corpse plastered along the road Childish wandered.

'Nah, better stay. Need a lift home anyway .'Childish crouched to the spot where the woman had climbed up to find a small ladder, probably used by people who cleaned the chimney. 'Should we leave her out in the open?'

Daud shrugged. 'You can always toss her into the river.'

'Actually not a bad idea.' She leaned down, and took the knife with an approving glance. Keys dangled on Anejas belt. She stuffed them in her pocket. 'But I guess Hecate will do the job for me. Let's move on.'

Still feeling a little dizzy, she slipped down , climbing along the rain gutter. He followed with ease. She was thankful he didn't suggest to blink somewhere again. It would have done her poor body no good.

The house was poorly lit, and not one light on the balcony or Jones office. Still, she wouldn't risk to get caught red handed in there again. Once a week was enough.

Daud strolled along so casual he could have taken a walk in a garden. It felt good to know someone had her back. Especially since he had already proven he wouldn't let her rot if things went down.

They moved to the backside of the house, a small alley separating it from the other side. The curtains of the neighbourhood were closed, and even if someone had seen something. No one would have dared to interrupt. This house had a reputation. As had Jones.

Only a lonely guard, shimming his shoulders and rolling his neck, probably deadly bored.

Instead of trying to get past him she dropped into a window on the second floor. Her body knew the drill. Hands gripping around frames, clawing into stones, feet steady. It was like a pair of fitting clothes. Her breath was steady as she counted her steps.

She didn't wait for Daud to follow. If he wanted to, he would. If not, he didn't. He had done more than enough.

Every inch of carpet under the soles of her shoes, fingers brushing along a wall. It felt familiar.

The guards were not as silent as her. Their feet were loud, and as their boots stomped over the floors she dropped down under tables, crouched in empty spaces ,or simply climbed up the wooden joists, the old and trustworthy skeleton of the house.

Taking here and there she stuffed her pockets, but spared space for the most important thing. The one named Warim had promised her to hide the combination in a guest room, marked by it's golden door knob, with the painting of a boat nearby. She found the door and tried Anejas keys. Surprisingly, one fit. The drawer stood next to the empty bed. Childish felt her sight blacken as she leaned down, but she pushed through. She had to. The slip of paper was smeared with ink, barely readable.

1483

 _Ah,Hecate,your people are going to end you. And you surround yourself with them._

Another desaster was about to unleash as the door knob turned. With a leap she tried to hide under behind the bed, crouching half under it in the most uncomfortable position.

It was Dima. And why did he have the keys to Hecates closed spare room?

She favoured him, he always had been grooming him in her own way. He got to stay here, as it seemed.

She felt his gaze.

His eyes grew wide when he saw her.

He was a coward, as much had proven when he didn't have the bite to help her or his now deceased friend.

'You live if you stay put.' She promised.

'How did you..?' as he saw the keys in her hand, a shadow went over his face. He moved. Childish sighed .

She wasn't as sorry as she thought as she punched him straight in the face.

Her hand hurt like hell. Punching something was not her expertise. Her knuckle was bruised.

Anejas knife found his neck.

'I told you to stay put. 'she whispered.

'Please don't kill me.' he begged. 'I won't tell anyone. You can still go.'

His hands trembled. He wasn't armed. Too late for that, my friend. The knife pressed harder against the skin below his collar.

She remembered how Daud had held a blade to her throat. Perfectly placed, and not wasting any time.

'Jones will find out.' Dima said. 'She will flay you alive. You and the boy.'

It would have been first. Killing an unarmed man. An unarmed man she knew. Not a friend. But not exactly a foe, despite his close relation to Jones.

She pulled the knife back, slamming the pommel into his temple, knocking him out square.

* * *

She bit her lip and took a glance at her surroundings. A bed , looking worth a months of food cushions and sheets. And there was a painting as well.

If not for the crystal ash tray and a stack of papers she wouldn't have known she stood in a room that Hecate probably used when she had to stay here.

The painting looked out of place. It had been moved recently.

She took it off. There was a little knob.

Intriguing.

Ah, the smell of treasure.

As she pressed it, a panel slit to the side. A secret safe. Just as she had been told.

She could feel her fingers twitch, coming alive, as she found herself happily leaning down ,to coax out her most favourite clicking sound. And reward her with the most precious gift.

 _A little more, my love, you know the drill. Open up._

Her fingers caressed the metal until a clicking sound echoed through the room. Childish sighed with joy.

 _Let's see what you keep for her._

As the door opened up she found money, a most intricate decorated pistol and a book.

'That's all?' she whispered, disappointed. The book had been read before,but wasn't old. A cheap novel. Knowing about the slip of paper ,it could still hold information.

She slipped the pistol inside her coat. It rested next to the knife on her belt and the lockpicks.

She decided to take the book, skimming through.

And if it wasn't useful, she had just stolen Hecate Jones favourite sinful literature.

 _That'll teach her!_

Unsure, she looked back. The office was close. She could probably climb in. But what if it was guarded?

 _Or booby trapped._

Nothing was impossible with that old minx.

Time to make use of the joists again. At least there was enough space. Vents and cracks were all right, but the tightness made her skin irk .

Her hand still hurt like shit.

In the darkness the was dead silent. She ignored the slumped over body of a guard near the balcony door. Courtesy of Daud, she guessed, but stepped to the desk, finding it locked.

It didn't take long until the job was done.

 _Dear Mrs Jones,_

 _Regarding the circumstances of Humphrey Crispin's disappearance I can assure you he is never going to be a problem again. His death-_

She couldn't read any more. With shaking hands she stuffed the paper in her coat.

Her hands found the crystal flask Jones kept on her desk. With a swift move she smashed it against the wall before she had her hands under control again.

With a shattering noise the yellow liquid dropped along the white wall, soaking into the red carpet, leaving a black spot.

She felt her heart fluttering and her muscles twitching as she fought for control. This was not the place or time .

As she stepped out on the balcony, Daud had caught up. He probably had been waiting on a spot below the chimney .He looked up to the smashed flask and back to her face.

Two of the guards below the balcony had heard the commotion. She really didn't care. She wanted to, but something in her head was numb, the numbness spreading through her body.

A part of her had hoped he was still alive

Stupid.

Let's get not ahead of yourself, the hoping part was not defeated yet. Read this. Not just a few words. Maybe he isn't . Maybe-

She was about just to drop down into the guards as a gloved hand stopped her ,and an arm wrapped around her. She didn't struggle. She just tried to breath, sorting this out as her body was lifted up.

She couldn't sort this out.


	13. Chapter 12: Rising water

_**[AN] Normally I would post this on sunday,but I got family around and you all know how that is. Have a wonderful weekend!**_

* * *

"When someone is crying, of course, the noble thing to do is to comfort them. But if someone is trying to hide their tears, it may also be noble to pretend you do not notice them."

― **Lemony Snicket** , **Horseradish**

* * *

Ash knew he should have just stayed put, as Childish had told him to. But he wasn't a dog. And he couldn't sit around waiting.

Maybe one of his friends was dead, if Childish returned.

Maybe two, if she didn't.

He didn't want to think about this possibility. But the thought was like a little flea, jumping and biting around in the back of his head.

She was all right. And she'd come back and tell him Crispin was just hiding out on a boat somewhere, deciding to retire from smuggling. He had been just hiding the last three months.

He thought about going to Crispin's house, but that person was surely fast asleep already.

She hadn't been very worried, not for Crispin as a person at last. They didn't spend much time together. And maybe she wasn't the most pleasant personality to have around, but no where near as bad as Childish liked to paint her.

Cattiness, he presumed. Mrs. Crispin was the polar opposite of everything Childish represented. And still Crispin had taken a liking to her, courting and admiring her. Not so hard, she was good to look at.

Ash had been still fairly surprised when Crispin had married her last year. He had always thought Crispin had his eye on Childish.

But then again, he thought, he had mistaken Childish's friendly behaviour too.

Friendly behaviour was a wrong expression ,maybe.

He had never watched them even as much as touch, but the way they talked. She was relaxed around him. And not in the way she was around Ash.

What was love, exactly? He couldn't tell.

He thought of the way Childish held his hand, laughed at him, tugged him in. She surely had never tugged Crispin or Daud in.

At the thought of that he could hear her laugh in his head.

Love. Hm.

He didn't know about love anyway. And he didn't care.

Ash strolled along the docks, the same road he had taken earlier to meet up with Childish. In the darkness they had become something else entirely. There was music, seeping through cracks ,loud booming voices, shattering of glasses.

He made himself comfortable close to a tavern, not entirely in the light, not entirely in the shadow, watching a group of men, as they staggered along, big guys, and drunk, probably. Nothing to mess with. Better to stay and wait until they had passed.

'Jones is done.' One of them said with a heavy accent. Ash listened closely. 'Black Sally has taken over her territory in the past, she's gonna get the rest.'

His friend laughed. ' _Black Sally_ is done mate. They smoked her out.'

'They didn't!' The one with the accent disagreed.

'Yes, they did! Wrapped her in nets and stabbed her until there wasn't much left!'

'Poor Black Sally,' heavy accent shook his a big head.' Heard she was a lass you'd like to unsheathe your sword for.'

'Well we got a new one up in the distillery district I heard.' A third one said.

'Ya,but I don't think I wanna fuck him.' Heavy accent shrugged.

' You'd fuck your own sister if she wasn't so ugly!'

That got all of them to laugh.

'Jokes on all of them. I hear there's someone on one of the islands, right before the city, recruiting men. It'll be a blood bath.'

'Well I ain't going to get involved. Let's stay safe and drink. Maybe get a girl.'

On that, everyone seemed to agree. Ash moved away, returning to his strolling, curious what this city would have in store for them.

* * *

She had seen men and women die, in the night, in the day. Her life had been violent and turbulent.

There had injustice and there had been vengeance. People taking and people lying. Dying had been present ever since. She had killed. She had not cared. If a house had been burning down, she wouldn't have jumped in to safe its inhabitants.

That was not the kind of person she was. She was selfish. She knew she was.

Always had been.

But he had been kind. He had given her a home. Had spared her life and shown mercy.

What mercy was it that he had died?

Dirty mercy to punish her mistakes.

She stared down from the bridge, watching the water rush by, she felt the wind creeping under her hood, but she didn't move. Legs hanging down, hand curled around the paper, clawing into the smudged ink.

Reckless, as always, balancing so close to the ledge.

 _Crispin would shake his head in clear exhaustion from chastising me._

He didn't deserve this. She bit her lips as hard as possible, tasting copper and salt.

The sound of the water was hypnotic and calming. Childish stared into the deep dark as if she would hope to find all the answers she needed.

But there wouldn't be any answers. They didn't exist.

'Fuck this.' She took a swing and threw the paper into the river. It sailed down, and she watched the white sheets disappear into the darkness.

'Fuck all of this.'

 _Oh god, what do I tell the boy? I can't meet him now. I can't go back._

Crispin was dead because of her. He had tried to haggle with the wrong people, and that there was a prize on her head hadn't been helpful.

She felt a heavy weight on her chest as she leaned her back against the railing, cold metal against a wet coat.

 _I can't tell him. I don't know how. Hey, Ash, I was right, he is dead. Let's go, ok?_

She felt her body giving in to this weight as the tears stung in her eyes. Unable to it anymore, she just cried, for the first time in years, as she thought of the day Crispin had taken her in, nursing Ash back to health.

In the corner of her eye, she saw a boot, and as she looked up, Daud was watching her with a quizzical expression.

There was a lump in her throat, and as she tried to clear it, she felt she couldn't speak. She couldn't joke. There was no tease left.

'I thought you were gone.' She finally managed to say, wiping her sleeves over her face.

'I was.' He just said, seating himself next to her, as calm and collected as ever, despite their early morning adventure.

Childish admired that. He had discipline, a lot of it, but under that was passion, and a wicked sense of humour. She lacked those qualities. Not the humour, obviously. And the passion was there too, but were his was a steady flame, hers was just a flash.

She wondered what brought a man like him in this town. He did fit in, somehow. What, she wondered, did he dream of?

She felt the warmth radiating off him, but didn't trust her voice. Her throat was dry and still hurt, as did her hand. But the pain was not really there. At least not physically. Something inside her ached, and she had never ever felt an overwhelming sadness like she did now.

Daud didn't say anything. He wasn't even looking at her, for which she was grateful as she wiped her stuffed nose in a very unladylike way.

For another while they watched the sun set slowly, a pair of pink streaks painted into the grey sky, like smudges on a dirty canvas.

'You know,' Childish finally broke the silence.' that I never left this town?'

She shifted, moving a little closer to him. Her breath was still hitching from the sobs.'I was born there , right behind that corner.'

His eyes followed the wink of her hand closely. 'I grew up there.' She pointed to another place right of the bridge, where a place of sordid, run down houses leaned towards its end.' Played in the mud, digging for treasure or trying to build a raft with my grandfather. He was first mate on a ship called _Sara's distress_ , and yes, that's what I was named after.'

There was a fondness in her voice she was surprised of herself.

'I always wanted to be somewhere else. Somewhere warm. I hear Serkonos is pretty this time of year.'

One side of his mouth was lifted into a lazy smile. He seemed as far away in memories as she was. 'You'd like it.'

She gazed at him in surprise.' I would?'

He was still half smiling when he looked at her, and the rare sight of such a smile on his face made her never want to forget.

'You'd probably make yourself a target on the first day you step of the ship. But. Yes.'

'You underestimate me, good Sir.' Her face hurt a little as she tried to smile.' So, it's warm, yeah? And cozy?'

'It certainly smells better than this rock.'

She chuckled through her stuffed nose, wiping over it with her sleeve again.

' It's warm. The sun's kissing you.'

She leaned her head against his shoulder ,closing her eyes, listening closely. 'How's the ocean?'

'Blue like you never have seen it. Never is the sky in this city as the sea is blue in Serkonos. You can look straight to the ground in some places.'

She blinked up at him, a single ray of the rising sun tickling her nose. 'What like glass? See the fish and all?'

'And all. 'he confirmed.

'I'd like to see that. Maybe even dive. I bet there's treasures and sunken cargo.'

'You're like a magpie.' For a moment he sounded as fond of her as of his homeland.' Always chasing the glitter.'

'There's more to me, you know?' Childish blinked again. ' I am not just after the gold.'

'I might have noticed.'

She hid the tiniest of smiles on his shoulder.

'My grandfather used to tell me pirate stories. I always wanted to go and see the ocean. Be out there, where nothing matters but salt on your lips and wind in the sails. It may sound stupid.' She chuckled again, her small body quivering at his side. 'Being free, like, real free. That's something, isn't it?' The lump in her throat had returned. 'If only I'd given in and booked off as soon as I was big enough to climb. Crispin wouldn't be dead and no one would have been in trouble because of me.'

'We are what we are. 'he whispered.

'Indeed, wise one.' She answered, growing silent again. The weight pressed against her, threatening to crush her. 'Do you miss it?'

'Sometimes I wonder.' His husky voice was barely audible.

She pulled her head up, looking into his face, bathed in sunlight.

There's something else, Childish wondered. Something I won't ever understand. Something you won't tell me, isn't there?

She could only guess. But she really didn't want to. She didn't want to think about any of this.

And so she just lingered in what little warmth the sun and his body would give her, thinking about waves and deep sunken ships, full of colourful fish and secrets.

' One day I really want to go there. See it. Maybe when I'm old and grey.' She was more grateful than ever he had decided to stick around. If only to watch her downfall.

'We could meet at one of those beaches with the glass clear water ,and we could just drink and tell old stories. We'd laugh about our younger selfs.'

'I am already laughing about you. No need to wait.'

Laughing kept the weight in check, at least a for a short time. She knew she wouldn't pull through as soon as she was all alone, so she lingered in their senseless banter. ' What have I ever done to you?'

' You ask questions you already know the answers to.'

'It was the puking, wasn't it? I didn't aim for your boot. There was wind.'

She leaned against him, feet dangling from the ledge, and watched the city wake up.


	14. Chapter 13: From hand to hand it goes

_**[AN] Just something short while I edit the other part. Also, double upload again because I got over 100 views on AO3 and another on FF! Yaay!**_

* * *

There was a desk in a house in Dunwall. It was an old desk, worn out wood, nothing special by any means. The man sitting on that desk worked for the city guard. Not a high position. But he knew a thing or two. And that information was kept in his desk. He wrote his letters there, drank there, sometimes he slept on the desk. The desk was his most trustworthy possession.

The man had caught wind of all the changes, about rumours ,the changing tides. Tide change regularly, but with the high and mighty, it's a thing. You have to use violence to remove them. And the man was very aware of that.

Hushed whispers of a coup had spread, but no one really knew if they were true, or who would strike.

It could have been all lies. But another thing with the ones above...they don't like talk of them being removed. And the longer the talk stays, the more nervous they get. And you don't want a knife on your throat twitching. It will kill you just like that, one flicker of a hand, one wrong, nervous breath.

And so ,as the man was sitting on his desk, he got a visitor.

That visitor was not a man of words, nor of great prone and intelligence. He only carried tasks his master gave him. He asked the man about the rumours. The man told him what he knew, for he was scared, and fear makes men confess.

The man's live ended at his table, where he had spent his living, without as much as a friend to mourn him.

The other man returned to his master, hidden in plain sight, where smoke and metal laid many men to rest. He heard a story of promised riches, of a man in a island, concealing his face behind a mask.

The story of a old woman who would meet her end. People said it was him, the master in the fabric, who would end her and take what was hers. By all means her reign was over. She would die. One way or another. All people do.

The master thanked and paid his man and pondered what to do. He was smart, that one, and as time would tell, he would live for a very, very long time, despite crawling bodies and vicious rats. He wouldn't stay in power that long, for his body was weak, and as the flesh decayed, his puppet master behind the desk used him to be in power.

For now, the man in the fabric, cloaked in fog and iron, would wait. He would watch his rivals move. Then he would take what was left.

On the same evening a man in the docks was hitting his wife. Love goes the strangest ways, and as he kicked her in the face she fell, but lay and waited for the last blow.

That husband was a violent man. He had spent his whole life in the streets. Violence was the language he knew and his fists were his way to talk. But just as the guard on his desk, this one played a small part. For he had been on the island with the masked one often. He had rowed a boat along the shore, carrying a breathing body without a nose . He had signed a woman's death with it, not that he. And even if he did he wouldn't have cared.

Just as he took his wife's last breath, another one did the same.

Far away, were laughter echoed in a hallway and a whore took a customer to her room. This murder was not witnessed, but it was planned and carried out swift.

The hand that held the sword bore a mark, hidden under dark leather gloves. The hand that bore the mark was skilled. And the hand took the money for it, knowing about the spark that he had lit.

The powder keg was ready to burst.

The hand that bore the mark and the man it belonged to were no stranger to the danger. Stories were told about him already, and whispered was the name they had given him.

He did not fear for what was to come. Not for himself. But deep and hidden in his black heart he feared for another, though he couldn't explain why he felt so deeply.

But as it was, the one he cared for, did not have any fear in her heart.

As she strode through the streets, dagger hidden in her hand, she wouldn't know someone cared and watched out.

She was, as people often were, foolish.

A good story, you might say, takes a bit of foolishness sometimes, and it needs the care, the love, the hidden infatuation. The fool that was the woman would not agree. But she didn't have to. She was far from realising any of this.

And unaware of the desk, smoke and the masked man she strode into her doom proudly.

There is no happy ending for you to seek. The man that bore the mark would not stride to her rescue. The fool that was the woman would not meet him at the sea and laugh.

Alas, this is another story to be told.

What comes next is the blood on the streets and the downfall. The tragedy. And don't we all love tragedy?

We can deny it, but it keeps us on the edge of our seats. It makes us hope, it makes us ponder, sometimes it makes us cry.

Let's look one last time, together, count meetings, smiles, before everything turns into ashes. As the ruins in the sea tell you,nothing ever lasts. All goes down someday. All drowns. Suffocates. Dear, dear Dunwall, watching on a river on a rock, and seeing all the lives jump off its cliffs.


	15. Chapter 14:The wolf and the magpie

[AN]Oh my :D THIS NOT WHAT I HAD IN MIND WHEN I I STARTED WRITING THIS STORY! But tired me has some creative ways,so I roll with it.

* * *

 _ **'Alas,' the wolf said. 'You try to peck and I'll bite off your head.'**_

 _ **I peck what I want, the magpie thought, but only chattered her beak. 'Dear wolf, 'she said, 'it's but a jest. But if you insist, I will be on my best behaviour.'**_

* * *

Their meeting point was set clear, though she would have preferred to come another way,she had agreed once again.

The alley belonged to a tavern frequently visited by Jones' people and whores alike. If she stayed sharp and careful, no one would notice her little shadow behind the barrels.

She wasn't herself this past days, too quiet, too many thoughts and old hurts aching with the loss of Crispin. The prowling kept her mind at ease and her feet and hands busy.

There was still the matter of the prize on her head. So she had to be a little careful.

James was a ghost, as it seemed.

No one had seen him for years or even heard his name. It was, as if he had never existed.

His parents were dead and burned for some years. His possessions scattered along the town.

Ash had been her last resort. She hadn't wanted to disturb him more. Not after she had told him that Crispin was gone.

But he didn't know much anyway. He told her of the basement, the cages and the dogs. His hands trembled as she gripped them. But he hadn't seen anyone but Sorrows and Galvain. And they were both dead now. He told her of the bag they had put over his head and the cry of a seagull as they left the basement. That was all.

She remembered her disappointment. But then again, he had always been hard to find, and though she had tried to leave him behind, to forget, to flee, Crispin had kept an eye out. And had never noticed anything.

Maybe he had left town. Maybe Sorrows and Gailvan had been operating alone. In his name, but not with him?

She tried to make sense of it, not only of their situation, but of his reasons. Why now? Why at all? Why had it taken him so long to find her? And why had she not been acting any smarter?

Running, running, always running.

She had enough. She felt sick and cold and angry and she wanted his blood.

Maybe Daud was rubbing off on her. All the violence seeping into her skin. Gods knew she was no saint, not at all.

The letter Jones had kept about his death stated the involvement of a masked man, but no other word about it.

 _What masked man?_

People asked when she brought it up. He was as much a ghost as James.

Then there was the shifting powers inside the city, mobs and gangs splitting, leaders dying and new faces rising to power. She was sure she had seen one or two of them in a shady dive before.

A, how she wished herself able to just sit there again, cheating in a game of cards and stealing some coins until someone noticed her lucky streak. The thick smoke of cheap tobacco and the laughter. She missed it a little. Breaking into Jones' house had reminded her of the things she was good at. Moping around was not. Not at all.

She moved restless through the streets, not daring to stop any longer than necessary. How long would it take to cool down this time? It always cooled down eventually.

Once or twice she caught a rumour about the whalers, but nothing big, nothing but a small whisper.

Magic has its perks, she thought. No one would dare lay a finger on him. They didn't even knew his face.

But if magic came from... _HIM_ she would have rather cut out her tongue than even just considering it a good thing to possess. Being in debt and in some twisted contract with that thing was the last she would wish on anyone.

Her thoughts trailed back to Daud and his merry band of accomplices. Not for the first time she wondered what he was doing here. And why he had accepted that mark. Talking about the Outsider wasn't her favourite topic, and she certainly didn't know to ask someone like him about it. He was as good and natural at bluffing as breathing. He always knew when she was, and that was unnerving.

The city was silent and cold, with fog clouding the cobbles. No one dared as much as breathing onto the others neck.

Jones and the masked man were no friends, as it seemed. The others seemed to hope for a slice of their territory, watching closely. Childish watched just as closely, eyes on small remains. Scavenger stayed scavenger, and it wouldn't be hard to snag a thing or two away in the bloodshed.

 _There's more to me, you know?_

 _I might have noticed._

Was there now? She was a greedy little magpie. Whatever he saw, she wanted to believe it to be true. She wanted to _become_ what he saw. His smile still warmed the pit of her frozen heart.

Warim had promised to come. His help with the code to the hidden safe had turned into more as he suggested to give her intel on Jones. A necessary evil was keeping his hopes for something else up, but if flirting was all to keep him docile, she wasn't against it. She had kissed and worked with worse men and women.

The barrels were smelling foul. She wrinkled her nose. Maybe a rat had drowned in there. No one in sight.

She had a bad feeling about this.

He had been the one to send her a note, leaving a smudged piece of paper in one of her spots. She had told him to do so if he wished to meet. She was no fool, even if people took her for it. Some things were better learned fast in the underground of this blighted city. Communication was one of them.

She eyed the barrels, sleeve over nose to get rid a bit of the stench. That was too much smell for a single rat.

And the barrel had been opened, the lid was not as fully closed as the others. With still no one around, the bad feeling didn't cease. Childish eyed the suspicious barrel again. Someone had cut a small hole in there.

Careful her hand hit the wood. There was water or another liquid. And something big, solid.

Please let me be wrong, she thought, and opened the lid.

In the dim light she saw a dark mop of hair and ear sticking out of water. The stench made her stomach curl. She gagged against her sleeve . It was a human, without question, tangled limbs, white and green, with dark, blackish cuts all along the parts she could see. Little claws and tooth had done a good job in ripping the body apart. Pieces of flesh were hanging off his face, and the other ear, she now saw, was missing. Was it Warim? It was hard to determine ,because there WERE dead rats, and as someone poured so much water into the barrel with the pour man, they had tried to escape and _eaten his face in panic_. He had been alive in a closed barrel with rising water and rats eating him. Biting into his ears, his nose...she closed the lid, hands shaking.

It could very well be Warim. Or someone else.

Gladly her stomach clenched, but there wasn't enough in it to empty it. Childish coughed a few times.

Her well of information was gone as it had come. A shame. She still had the book from the safe though. And she had to deliver a share anyway. She owed a certain someone to make it worth his while.

As the back door opened, she jumped over the barrels, stench burning into her clothes, and left, leaving the half eaten body behind.

* * *

Up on his island, sitting in a chair by the fire, the masked man listened closely. He had lowered his hood, and a deformed shell of a ear was peaking out of the wooden mask concealing his features.

The fire cackled and in his heart was eager hunger.

* * *

Unable to sleep in the cot anymore, Ash had left the house. His walks had become a regular habit. Something he had picked up from Childish. But she wouldn't have liked to know. She cared just too much. Crispin's death had changed something. He could feel her fear, almost taste it.

She wanted to keep him hidden away.

But he was alive. He couldn't keep the head tugged hidden all the time.

He wanted nothing more than to help. He had to do something.

He had been bait once, he didn't want to fall into a trap ever again.

The dogs circling the metal bars still were haunting his dreams. If only, Ash thought, I could remember anything. There were blanks, a lot of it. And the memory of pain that made him want to scream and kick.

He wondered were his friend had went, but couldn't bring himself to look for her. She would have scolded him.

He climbed out of the window, the rain water downpipe made a moaning sound as Ash's feet used it to climb down further, his weight almost too much for the poor old metal. He wasn't as skilled at climbing as his teacher, but he was learning. He was observant enough. And he had more patience.

The attic was better than the last basement. He missed the way they had slept up, curled together in the warehouse. Childish didn't sleep much, and if she did, she was dead drunk.

He'd prove himself. He'd show her. And then she'd be proud. And she would stay, and he'd hold her, and watch over her, like she had done to him.

Loyal puppy, Sorrows had said.

Ash felt disgust, a bitter taste in his mouth. Then he made his way along the building.

Someone had painted a graffiti on the side of the building.

Traitors get their share

Curled in an almost elegant hand writing along the wall.

* * *

The rain had soaked through his cloak into his muscles, his back was sore and his head had started to hurt on the way. Brushing off anyone or anything, he only cared for rest. Rest and silence. That would do for now. A few hours were all it would take.

He had made this plan without a certain someone waiting for him.

'Darling, you are back!' Childish slurred.

'The kids are fast asleep. No one will interrupt us.' Holding her finger to her lips she snorted, breaking into a dirty chuckle.

There was dirt on her nose. Dust was speckled over her unruly hair.

'You are drunk.' He stated.

'Quite!' Her finger slit down his coat, playing with one of the buttons. 'But this only makes me appreciate you and your...things..more.'

'Leave it be.' He shoved her hand away, channeling the last bit of patience he could muster.

Sometimes she was like a child. He ignored her, sitting down. Slipping out of his dirty boots. She followed through the room, not exactly behind him, and not next to him. He could have turned his head and seen her watching,a little wobbly on her feet.

'You know the streets are burning?' _Why are you sneaking out just to wait here? Don't you have anything better to do than bother me, you little unnerving woman?_

'I do. ' she furrowed her brow, looking back. _I don't have anything better to do,_ her eyes seemed to answer, twinkling _. And you know it._

'One of my men tells me your head has just doubled its price, gratitude of Jones.'

'How many of your man are there?' she asked, leaning forth. Her breath touched his neck. Her closeness had a strange effect on him. He knew it was all just to unsettle him, and it worked too well most of the time. Right now, she was even more persistent.

'Your guess?'

'Not that much. ' her hands slit along his shoulder. 'Its all smoke and mirrors, isn't it?'

'Sara.' He warned her.

The twitching fingers retreated.

'Sorry. I got side-tracked. No one has that much pockets without something worth taking.'

'If you try to take something from me, it will be your last deed. 'he muttered.

'OH, not in the mood for banter today, are we?'

He didn't answer, peeling out of his coat.

'Allright,just listen. I am here for your share of our last... adventure. But since I had to wait I started reading that book Jones hid and I totally get now why it was in a safe. ' She waved it at him.' I thought it would be bad. But.. it's worse. It's not written by anyone famous and the way it's printed is so wonky. I'd say there are not much more books of this. But you know what the absolute best part is?' she could barely hold the laughter back, and fighting it lead to snorting out loud. 'It's about an assassin called _David_ that lives in the town of _Duntown_ and he and his men wear _birdmasks._ You,my friend ,are already inspiring people.'

'By the sound of that, not for the better.'

'Yeah ,well whoever wrote this never met you or any of the poorly portrayed characters, and it's only a decoy to hide some kind of cryptic message, but whatever.'

'Learned anything yet?'

'Very little. I am too invested in the story.' She confessed. 'No, wait, please, it's not even the best part. Halfway through the book, when poor _David_ is pondering about his life, he falls in love with a girl.' The way she faked to swoon didn't impress him.' She's like, the perfect person. Tall,pretty,smart, All that fancy stuff, yeah? She can't fight like piss or does something to _prove_ she is smart. But she has a _dark secret._ '

Clearing her throat, Childish stood up, naked feet tapping over the floor, and jumped straight, letting the bed be her stage.

'Don't.' He warned her, little less tired more sharp this time.

' _oh David, I can't-She cried, violet eyes filled with crystal tears, she was very beautiful when she was crying but she was always very beautiful and the way she was crying moved everyone._

' _I haven't told you.' Her eyes were sparkling. 'I have a dark secret.'_

 _'Whatever it is, we will overcome it. I love- looooove you-ah!'_

Daud had enough of the open stage. His hands grabbed her legs and pulled her feet away from under her. She sailed right back into the bed, head hitting wood, but before she could complain his rough hand had moved over her mouth, keeping it shut.

'What do I have to do for you to keep this ridiculous mouth shut?' he growled, voice low.

Her eyes were grey points, shining in the dim light. For a moment she didn't move. Then she had the audacity to bite his hand. Not very hard, just a little nibble.

He had _enough_ of her. Enough of her endless jests and her teasing. Never able to take things remotely seriously. Always ludicrous.

Her back arched up under the touch of his hand, but she couldn't move, with her legs caught between his.

One flick, moving her up, twisting her with enough force. It wouldn't take more to do lasting damage.

His hand closed around her throat with ease, and the last flicker of amusement vanished from her face. She was afraid. Good. Finally.

'This is not a game.' He told her, removing his hand from her mouth, but still caging her body under his. 'And none of your foolish behaviour will change that.'

'And what,' she curled her hand around his, nails scraping over his skin. 'Would you have me do? I could cry and beg, I guess, would that change anything? Or maybe play the heroine? We are both no good and you know it, love.'

He squeezed lightly and felt her pulse quickening under his fingertips.

'Prove me right. 'Childish dared.

'I don't need to prove anything to you. 'He squeezed more, if only for a second, and her nails scratched along his wrist. Then he let go.

Her gaze was too much. Daud felt the headache spread as he got up, untangling their limbs.

'Could you try to care?'

'You mistake my laughter for ignorance. 'she huffed, seemingly sobered up. 'I can assure you it's not. But you are a big boy, you'll get out just fine.'

'How daft are you?' He wanted to shake her. 'This isn't just about me.'

'Since when do you care about people?'

'You are not people, Sara.' He hadn't meant to say it like that. He could see the effect the words had on her. This was not what he had intended.

She stared at him, speechless. A rare sight. He took in her dishevelled short hair, her flushed cheeks, and every freckle that stood out against the pale skin.

For a while they sat close to each other , he content with the silence, and she, stunned.

When one of them moved , it was Childish.

Her fingers closed around his shoulders, close to his neck, working their nimble way through his tense muscles.

A part of him wanted to just kick her out, boot to her arse, before his mind could wander to worse things. The other part wanted to remain right under the touch of her hands.

'You're being grim again.'

'Is that so?' he muttered and closed his eyes.

He had decided to remain. For a moment.

'Yeah.' He felt her chuckle at his back. 'so grim and so sore. '

For a second, he flinched as her cold hands found a way onto his back, but as they rubbed circles along his shoulder blades, he relaxed again.' Jeez,Daud, just relax from time to time. Not that I don't appreciate doing something else than _talking_ with you.'

He didn't take her bait. 'You are touchy today.'

'Sorry not to be sorry. That's my way of coping.' Her fingers moved up his shoulders again, along his neck. She was doing a decent job, so decent, in fact, that he felt himself leaning against her hands.

This time they both seemed content with the silence.

Her hands rested in his hair,combing through it in an almost soothing way.

'You know what would be-' she started.

'If you ask me to hug you,the answer is still no.' He cut her off.

'You'll see the value of hugging soon enough.' She chuckled.'Wanna talk about your day?'

'You wouldn't want to know.'

'That's a no. Well then. I'll rub your back, and maybe you can scratch mine later.'

'You are wasting your breath again. 'he whispered, her fingers stroking his neck.

'No hugs, no scratches. All work and no play makes Childish a dull girl.'


	16. Chapter 15:The frog knows best

Music was booming through the big room. The violin sounded like someone had forgotten to tune her for a long time. It made the high shrieking notes even more hectic and the voice of a woman in green, close by, even more beautiful.

 _ **Awake from your dream, frog maiden**_

 _ **Skin green as the emerald sea**_

 _ **Let me tell you a tale of a love that did fail**_

'Oh my,' The woman dressed in red placed the cards down in a satisfying and almost gentle gesture. Her accent was as heavy and false as the smile plastered along her painted face. 'It seems I win again.'

 _ **Prick, prick, prick! Goes the scorpion's tail.**_

The men on the table were visibly upset about their loss. The best dressed and oldest was pale and bit his lips. A young, brown haired man with a scar on his brow, dressed in black shook his head in exasperation.

The sailor was not as restrained, cursing loud and foul.

'This is a pile of dogshit.' He growled, jaw clenched.

'Are you calling the lady a cheater?' The young man asked, leaning over the table, sounding shocked.

The lady was watching closely, red lips pursed, waiting.

His fist sailed down on the table, shaking their glasses, coins clinking.'Damn right I do! No one is that lucky!'

 _ **Oh love, it is foolish and green, my love**_

 _ **How quickly we forget the sting, my love**_

The woman in red lifted her hands in a reassuring gesture. The older man, scratching his well trimmed beard, noticed the golden ring on her gloved hand and wondered what a fool would wear a thing like that in a place like this.

'Why would I cheat with such honourable company? You insult me, my dear friend. '

The sailor was having none of it.

'Stop lying and give me my money back!'

 _ **What a pretty and dangerous line, my love**_

'What game do we play that you can just demand your money back?' she laughed, sweetly. 'win, you get all.'

'No point in that when you are cheating, is there?!'

 _ **What bitter yet delicious wine, my love**_

' He seems rather upset. 'the young man said. 'Is there no way to settle this?'

The red dressed woman licked her painted lips. 'Oh there is . But I don't know if he is willing to take a risk.'

Now the older man glanced at her, curious. 'What do you propose, Miss?'

'One of the gentleman has a pistol to borrow, yes?'

The young man fumbled on his belt. 'I have one with me. And now?'

Her gloved hands took the weapon, holding it like a hurt bird, careful but firm. 'If our friend is willing to take a risk, he can triple the wager. All he has to do is shoot me.'

The table was silent for a moment. The sailor was staring at her ,stunned. 'You want me to what?'

'Shoot me. As I said. Look.' Her fingers fumbled along the mechanism. The pistol clicked. 'It's not that hard. You just aim at my hat. You miss, I win.'

It was a big hat, dirty red as blood running through the curbstones at the butcher store.

'Shoot your hat? 'the sailor said. The older man looked eager.

'Yes.' The red lady licked her lips. 'High stakes, no breaks. Three tries.'

'I am against it.' The young man said in defeat. 'But someone has to watch the lady . I don't want to see anyone get hurt.'

'I won't do in.'The sailor decided. 'You are crazy.'

'But' I want to. 'the older man said. 'Three tries and I get all the money.'

'And more. 'the red lady promised, standing up. 'Lets take this outside, my beautiful strangers.'

She packed the money up, letting it slide into a leather pouch close to her side.

The older man's eyes left the pouch only to take a closer look at the red lady's arse in front of him as they left the room.

Retreating outside, into the alley, seemed clever, only to not alarm someone or start a shooting. Or, in the case of the older man, not to share the money.

She handed him the pistol. He smiled.

'Three tries. 'she reminded him, stepping back. 'Good luck.'

'I wont need luck. ' he answered cold.

Then he shot her straight in the face. Smoke curled along the gun . For a moment the pang echoed in the alley. Her hat went flying down, tumbling along the alley. The lady in red didn't move, just lay on the floor, face to the dirty street.

The young man stared at him in deep, calm anger. With a swift motion an ugly rigged knife had found the older man's throat, pinning him straight against the wall. The young man towered over him, waiting.

'You want a share? You can have it, boy.'

Something in his attackers face twitched. The lady moaned.

'Oh, Maleek, didn't you know shooting poor ladies in the face is not the way to win their hearts?'

The man named Maleek went pale. The woman in red rubbed some dirt and paint of her face, revealing freckles and scars.

' You tricked me.' he hissed.

'Yes. ' she sounded delighted. 'I think we did. Who would be crazy enough to get shot with a real weapon?'

'The knife isn't fake.' The boy assured him grim, pressing it a little deeper into his skin.

She stepped around the young man, wobbly on the heels. Maleek snorted in disgust, but didn't dare to move.

'Take it easy. He isn't brave enough to fight someone with a weapon,be it a 16 year old boy or not.'

'Who are you?' Tychos Maleek was not a brave man, and he was known for his love of hurting weaker people. Which was probably the reason he was in a position like this. Why had he sent his guards away? Just to be undisturbed? He hadn't thought anyone would recognise him.'Who are you working for?'

'I know who _you_ work for. ' the woman smiled, and he wanted nothing more than to wipe that smile off her face. Imagining the pistol actually had ripped her face away, revealing flesh and shattered bones made him regret not bringing his weapon.

'And you want to kill me, right?'

'Why would we?' The woman shook her head. 'You get me on the next ship. I want to work for him.'

'That's all?' Tychos Maleek let out a shaking long breath. 'I can do that. Just let me-'

'Get my guards? Alarm my boss? No thank you.' The woman took the knife, still holding it close to his throat, she grinned. 'Walk with me, Maleek,will you? Such a beautiful night. I want us to be best friends.'

* * *

 _A few days earlier_

Ash wasn't in the attic when she finally managed to sneak in. It seemed he hadn't been here for a whole while, and fear ate Childish's heart again. If only her mind hadn't been occupied with prancing around Daud.

That was the problem when you started caring for people. You couldn't just stop. And someone always got hurt. She hadn't lied to Ash the day she had made fun of the notion of being in love with Daud. But the fact she cared so much she was afraid was something else.

And what was love anyway?

Some people thought about love like a diamond to be bragged about and worn proudly in the open. Some thought of it as an exotic animal, rare and alien, but worth to discover.

Others found it worthless. They made fun of the idea.

Childish's skin irked when she thought about love. She had never thought about love in the sense most young girls did. There had been no candlelight, no moonlight shining down on, and after seeing her parents falling apart, there was no believe in happy ever after. And now there was always James in the back of her head. There were bruises, split lips and fights. There were what ifs, bitterness, and the taste of hate. He was like a pebble in her boot, and she detested it.

She could deal with a fling. She _loved_ flirting. Touching someone was good and necessary, it was breathing and relaxing. The way her mind was occupied with him was not easy. It was fun, for sure, and she hadn't really thought he'd actually taken any interest in her, but he had. He had cared.

They were friends. Sort of. And she would be dammed if she didn't need friends right now.

But when she thought about them on the bridge, both stuck somewhere in another time and life, talking about oceans, there was another _what if_ , and it was one she had never really dealt with before. She felt some kind of attraction, she wouldn't deny that. It was complicated, and complicated things were messy.

 _This dance we dance, the mess we make._

 _ **We are both no good, and you know it.**_

Self contemplation wouldn't do any good. She had more important things to do than fuck around.

 _Figuratively. Or literally. Time would tell._

But it didn't matter anyway.

Not when good natured, brilliant bright Ash was waiting for her. She had bit off a nose to get him back. She'd bite a hundred more to keep him.

Childish curled together in a tight ball below the blanket. She shivered waiting, until she fell asleep.

The smell of gun powder and burned meat surrounded her when she woke her up.

Ash had curled next to her , brown hair dishevelled, face dirty. When she caressed one side of his face, his eyes opened slowly.

'Where have you been? 'he whispered, rubbing his eyes.

 _Strolling through the streets like a lost cat. Not finding a thing. And drinking. I am sure you can smell._

'I could ask you the same.' She answered, still patting his head.

'Found work.' He sounded so proud. Childish's eyes found his belt. When she saw the pistol she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

She still asked. 'You work for which gang now? Jones? The hatters? That guy in the distillery district?'

' No one wants me to fight.' He sighed good hearted. ' They think I am too young. I just..deliver things, like messages. But I hear stuff, Childish. And you need someone who hears things. Especially after Crispin's death.'

Responsible Ash, loyal Ash. Childish wanted to slap herself for not being around.

'I could always ask Daud. He warned me before.' She crossed her arms. Ash's green eyes shone in the light, drifting through the small attic window in a single beam.

'I am not sure you know on which side he is.'

'On my good one.' She decided, not wanting to discuss this topic any further with a way too smart sixteen year old. 'For now.'

Ash knew her well enough to let it slide. 'You still looking for the masked man?'

'I am.' She smiled at him.' Jones' book might be my ticket in. I just can't find the most important piece.'

'Can I see?' Ash asked. She handed him the tortured book, full of dog ears and scribbles.

'I need a key.' She explained, as he opened a page. She had marked words and letters almost looking coincidentally. 'But I can't think of anything that would fit. 4 letters and I can't find them.'

She had been sitting on them for days now. Her patience was running thin. When she closed her eyes letters where dancing behind the closed lids, mocking her.

'I tried Gold, Coins, Guns... anything Jones' may be fond of, but-' Ash listened closely, eyes attentive on the book. Childish felt something in the back of her mind rise. 'Ash, I love you.'

That seemed to confuse him. 'OH, okay?' he smiled a little.' I guess it's mutual.'

She took the book of his hands. All this time she had thought it was a possession, something of worth. But what if it was actually something very human?

He was always close to her. Hecate was grooming him. She had seen him in the guest rooms.

'It's Dima. It's that little bastard.'

Her fingers flew over the page, picking her scribbles apart. Ash had taken it upon himself to light a few candles as the darkness seeped into the corners of the attic. Below them voices of the actual inhabitants rose, a little child was crying. A female voice started singing.

Childish knew the song, but she didn't stop to listen. Her own song was calling. She felt the answers in the tip of her tongue.

 _The frog knows best_

A name. A trace.

Ash had returned to her side, slipping his belt off. The weapons clattered on the floor.

'A frog?'

'Good thing you don't know. 'Childish rested her head in her hands. 'I was questioning my parenting. It's a shady place on the docks. I guess someone there knows something. Its not much. Let's see if I can get out more.'

It took more than an hour for her to make sense of a few pages. Despite having the key, calculating every letter was tiresome. Ash took over after a few paragraphs, and they swapped places , while the other ate, or just watched.

Finally a neat little poem had lined up on the paper.

Ash stared at it with a quizzical expression.

 _The masked man preaches heresy were many laid to rest_

 _A dagger cloaks his cold black mouth_

 _Where rocks build in the crest_

‚That's a description.' Ash said.

'It is. Most likely. Or a riddle.'

‚No, it's a location.' he seemed so sure she would have bet her life.'There's talk along the men . One of the islands along the shore is named black dagger. Cause the rocks and cliffs there are sharp and bet that's where the masked man is.'

Her brain was trying hard to remember anything useful. She had lived her whole life in this city,she had to know something about that island.

Her grandfather sprung right back into her memory, his big tanned hands, stroking her hair while telling her about the dangerous cliffs along the shore.

‚There's nothing but an abandoned lighthouse, isn't there? Why would someone live on that rock?'

'There must be a cave,or something. Cold black mouth.'

'My smart boy.' rubbing her dirty cheek on his,she smudged one side of his face.

Ash beamed at her proudly.

'Jones must know too.'It was her book after all. Why keep a riddled book without knowing its content? ' I could wait for her next move. One of them has to do something. Everyone is getting nervous by now.'

Ash looked down on the pages,thoughful,, biting his lip. ‚As ar as I know, boats get on and off regular,but that's all. You aren't thinking about going there yourself,are you?'

She wasn't,was she? Only one way to find out. Let's poke some dogs with sticks and see what happens.

And if getting on the isle was the only way to learn about that bloody masked man? Crispin was dead because of him.

'I say without a boat I won't even get close. I sure as hell won't swim. And the frog is in there for a reason. '

* * *

One day later Childish found herself alone in the shady, stinking depths of the drunken frog. And she loved every second of it.

The tables were broken, stained with grease and wine. Here and there were other suspicious stains, not unlikely blood and other body fluids.

Not one piece of furniture looked like the other,and every glass was dirty and glorious.

When she entered a whore threw her a dirty glance, but when she took in the crooked ensemble of her coat, the too big shirt and the old boots, she seemed to ease.

She hadn't been here in years,and the last time had ended badly. Stealing from the wrong person had brought her only bruises and someone pointing a crossbow at her face. Still, it was easy. Sitting in one of the chairs at the counter, she watched and drank, not unlike any other day out.

It was strangely peaceful. Childish's memory consisted of murder, gambling and slick business.

Gambling was still big, judging by the sound of shouts and dice clattering on wood. And she saw some people retreating in a more private room, knifes and pistols glittering in the dim light of a few candelabras.

But despite the loud voices, the foul smells and the gross collection of criminals, no one was trying to start a quarrel.

‚ All alone?' A soft, dark brown hand reached around her, dressed in faded green lace. Childish smelled the cheap and strong scent of roses.

'Depends who is asking.' she answered, turning around, seeing a pretty young woman in green, leaning in close, showing a good bit cleavage.' Ugh ,I bet you hear that one a lot.'

The woman let out a bellow of laughter, making the deep cleavage and ist content shake. For a moment Childish feared the soft faded green silk would burst . 'You have no idea.'

'Well' the glass in her hand was half empty. Childish downed the rest, feeling the burning in her throat.' I won't deny I came here for _some kind_ of company.'

The woman's dark eyes were like glittering jewels. As a she leaned over,even more closer, the smell of roses became overwhelming.'‚But not mine or little Litas there' her head shook in the direction of the woman that had given Childish the stink eye. , isn't that so?'

She had the most intricate curls Childish had ever seen. Last time the girls had neither been as smart nor as pretty.

'Maybe I changed my mind..?'

'Tenna.' the woman said, smiling and touching Childish's arm.

'Childish.'

Tenna snorted,shaking her dark curls.'Your mama must have felt funny the day she named you.'

'If my poor old mother knew how I called myself she'd turn in her grave. '

'She'll turn in her grave when she hears how _I_ call you.'

Childish blinked at her in amusement. Cheeky Tenna had earnt herself a drink.

The woman sat down next to her, very close.

That woman wanted to play? Entertainment was always welcome.

Childish watched her, leaning back on her place bythe counter,hands closed around her new filled glas. Tenna didn',t touch hers. 'Tell me then, Tenna, jewel of the drunken frog, what do you think I am after?'

'Adventure. Probably.'Tenna shrugged.'Money? No. Something more…' the laced hand slit over Childish's arm again, circling along her shoulder. She watched Tennas efforts in silent amusement, half a smile curling on her lips.'Personal. You are not looking for company.' Tennas hands nestled on the buttons of her coat.' You don't want to sleep with me or one of those brutes gambling and drinking. And this is only your second drink. You didnt even toucj your first one before I came over.'

Warm soft hands slipped under Childish's coat, and found the knife. She was very,very close, and Childish couldn't deny she was flattered and suprised. In another life, she would have loved to know more about this woman. She was sure to keep a little eye on her if she survived long enough. Someone whistled at them and Tenna laughed again,loud and false. Her eyes were steel.

'Tell me what you want and I tell you the price.'Tenna whispered.

'You know a masked man?' Childish murmured back.

'Heard of him.' A dazzling smile revealed the bronze _glow_ _at_ her cheeks.' One of his man comes here. A disgusting being. Tychos Maleek.'

 _The frog knows best._

Tenna was way too clean,and way too sharp for being a simple prostitute in this part of the docks. The cheap perfume and the dress had tricked Childish for a while. Disguising yourself behind your pretty facade. Clever move.

'Who do you work for, Tenna?'

'No one. It's all a lucky coincidence.' Tenna had picked up her glass, retreating from Childish casually.'You wanna know about Tychos or not,sweet woman?'

'Call me that again and maybe I forget about Maleek.'

'Freckled goddess, graceful lady, sweet woman.'Tenna said, lips curled into the most brilliant smile Childish had ever seen (though she could never catch her own smile, which was, for sure, just as impressive!).

'Oh woman, you make me swoon. 'Childish chuckled, grabbing Tennas hand and pressing it against her chest. ' Feel that? It beats only for your sugar-coated words.'

To see someone else be the touchy one instead was refreshing. Tenna let a short, dusty strand of Childish's hair glide through her fingers. 'Someone must have told you before.'

'Not as much as I would like, that's for sure.'

'Well, I'll be here tomorrow again. I can talk the whole evening, if that's what you wish for.'Tenna leaned in again. 'But I hear someone else is going to attend tomorrow too, playing his weekly share of cards, and leaving his guards at home.'

'Why would you tell me that?' A trap, Childish wondered. Tenna shook her head.

'I like you. And I wish for you to survive this adventure of yours. Maybe we meet again.'

 _That would be interesting, wouldn't it?_

'Let's take this discussion elsewhere, 'Childish decided. Tenna smiled her wicked smile again.

Childish smelled of cheap roses when she came home that night.

* * *

Ash watched Tychos Maleek half stumbling, half running away. 'You sure you don't want to feed him to the fish?'

'Feed him to the fish?' Childish furrowed her brow, supressing a chuckle. 'boy, you learned some slang. Nah. We want him alive for now. He's a pig though. Someone will probably kill him soon enough.'

'Good to know.'

Childish was also staring after Maleek. Her whole face looked , sprinkled with dirt and sweat on her brow, almost molten. The dark that had coated her eyes was smudged around them. She looked a little like a racoon. The fact she was rubbing her eyes only made it worse.

'I had almost forgotten the pistol was fake when Maleek shot you.' Ash swallowed hard.

'Honestly?' Childish's eyes were tired when she looked over to him. 'Me too, Ash.'

'Want to go home?'

'Nah, I have some things to settle before I get dropped off the island. I'll come later. Promise.'

* * *

'I just came to say goodbye. Make sure you wouldn't think I had kicked the bucket without paying you back.'

Daud eyed her closely. 'Are you drunk again?'

'Why does everybody always think that?' She sighed. 'I mean it, though. Who knows how long I'll be stuck out of town. I had forgotten to give it to you so...yeah.' A box hit the table square. 'I got this from Jones', the night you helped me get in. It's creepy. I know you like creepy.'

His hands examined the box, and when he opened it,, she felt a shiver run up her spine at the sight of the naked grey bones. 'You are going to do something stupid.'

'You know me, always busy.' A small smile flitted across her ruined face. ' Don't worry, I'm not gonna ask if you want to tag along.'

'Not promising me anything?' He leaned back, box in his hands. 'Not trying to make a deal ? What _are_ you up to, Sara Verley?'

'I said it.' She shrugged before turning around, red clad form ready to move away. 'Leaving the city for a while. Taking care of some business. I'll be back before you know. Enjoy your time off.'

'Sara.' His voice made her stop. 'Be clever this time.'

'I could try. But only for you.' This time the smile on her face was the lopsided grin he knew.


	17. Chapter 16: At Black Dagger Island

Where there is light, there will be people. When there is darkness,, there will be silence.

In silence we sleep. And where sleep is, there are dreams.

Some people believe dreams to be prophetic. Some believe them to be nonsense. Some struggle with their lives even in sleep. Some embrace them, longing for better times that once were.

Daud was none of those people. And when he dreamed of a dark place, calling and luring, he followed the call, cautious.

He had been here before. That much was clear by the way he moved the shifting, whirling stones, the darkness swallowing things whole and spitting skeletons of memories out again.

'Daud,my friend. It has been a while.' The Outsider said.

Not that time mattered. It did not. Not truly. For time was different here. A month, a year, what did it matter?

There was another task, another speech, another riddle.

Words of caves, of altars , words of masked men, of despair that had burned faces. And talk of an end.

When Daud woke up, he knew where he had to start. He always did.

* * *

The water was restless, angry waves gushed against the wooden flank of the boat, whirling up a spray mist of salt water droplets. In the distance Dunwall towered over rocks and cliffs, dark stone shining full of light.

The sun was not up yet. Grey morning light surrounded the dark silhouette of a unmoving, rebellious city , standing ist ground against the water.

Childish leaned over the boats side, fingers feeling drops of the ice cold water, tasting salt where the mist hit her face. She had been swimming in the river, she knew the water in the city well. This felt different already. It wasn't the ship. Crispin had taken her to ships and boats from time to time. The swaying ground was unnerving, but it was just another form of balancing along a small line. At least that's what she told herself.

The air smelled different too ;slightly sulfury, with just a pinch of green, and a briny finish. It was stronger here than she had ever smelled it at the docks. Having that much water around one, it was couldn't see the other side.

Despite all seriousness and the graveness of her being all alone on her way out of her home, she was excited, bones brimming with joy and energy. She was a child again, listening to her grandfather.

And after six long days on sea...The sailor looked up the sky…and as the cry of the seagulls echoed over the blue sky…he saw a black flag hissed in the distance…

Wind was blowing, making her hood and scarf flutter. Childish dared to lean over just a tad more, inhaling deeply.

Ah, the urge to be in places far away had never been bigger. But then again, she had never left Dunwall. Who knew if things would be any better in a foreign country?

'Don't slip.'A man next to her said, pretending to give her a shove. Childish flinched back, almost stumbling into another broad frame, leaning on the rail close by.

'Don't scare the lass.' This man bellowed, seemingly amused. 'She looks like she's never been on a boat before.'

There was a sharp remark on the tip of her tongue, something to provoke, something to spite. The sea had been beautiful and now they had ruined it.

But then she remembered Daud's words.

 _Be clever this time._

A fight on a boat would do no good. She hadn't even reached her destination. And who knew what these men would have in common with her, once they reached down the island. She couldn't afford enemies, or even just a slight quarrel. Keep a low profile, by all means.

 _Yes, Childish, be clever, just this once, else he will just give you that smug glare when you admit you fucked it up and he was right._

'What's with that smile, lass? Cat ate your tongue?'

'I was just watching the sea.' Childish replied, tugging her scarf back over her mouth.

'Hard not to notice the way you stared.' The one that had tried to shove her said. There was a scar on his lip. Both of them towered over her. Scar lip wasn't as tanned as the other one though, or as broad shouldered. ' It's just water. A lot of it.'

Childish shrugged, silent.

'Just water?'the tanned one said.' Hold on.'

Childish slipped away before they could buttonhole her again. In the distance was the silhouette of a lighthouse, towering over a cliff. No light burned, to guide ships. Vicious dark rocks rose up under the rearing waves.

She watched as the ship maneuvered along . The island seemed barren and inhospitable. Birds circled in the sky. Her attention shifted to the other people hired by Tychos Maleek.

They were a small group. She had watched them silent, face hidden under her scarf. Most kept to themselves. One other woman, bigger and willowy, a crossbow visibly attached. Her red hair was in a tight knot, her clothes tough leather, she was keeping an eye out too, and no one approached her as they had tried with Childish.

The men were clearly brute force, sans one small guy, sly and sleek, sharp eyes, reddish brown skin and blue silky coat. He hold a bag close to himself.

There wasn't much talk. She wondered what the masked man was planning.

In that moment the ship turned along the shore, and Childish saw the black mouth of a cave.

It was barely big enough, but the ships crew seemed to know the drill, and they pulled in smoothly.

Shadow and torches lit the small pier, a wooden plank, bordered by stones. The waves hissed in the distance. The water here was much calmer , almost tame.

Her heart made a leap in her chest. She curled her hands into fists, hidden in her pockets.

Making herself small between the others, she took a step on the pier, boots meeting sandy ground, stone surrounding her.

 _Here we are then. My dear masked stranger. Where are you hiding? What is this place?_

The red haired woman took control of the group immediately.

'The masked man welcomes you on the Black Dagger.' She yelled. People stopped their bickering and whispering, looking at her. 'My name is Nalukah.I am sure you were told there is work to do here. Some of you will stay here. The caves are dangerous. They need construction. The others will be assigned other tasks. We'll find a use for all of you. You will be paid weekly. And no one leaves. There is no turning back.'

'What are you talking about, woman? No leaving?!' Scar lip dared to ask.

Nalukah sneered at him. ' It's either Nalukah or Ma'am. And since you signed up voluntary, I assume you have no better place to be. You try to leave, we shoot you in the head. Don't try.'

Childish felt the group shifting but no o e dared to speak up. Nalukah had her crossbow at the ready.

It was a nice crossbow. Childish always wanted a crossbow like that.

'You, you and you.' She pointed at three of the men. 'Stay back. The others with me.'

Again sneaking in a spot between people bigger than her, Childish had hoped to go further unnoticed.

'What's with you?' Nalukah said, looking her up and down in a way Childish didn't like in the slightest. 'Too small to fight, too weak to help the workers.'

'I was told I am an excellent singer.' She remarked, big smiling.

'People eat and people piss.' Nalukah didn't sound pleased. ' You earned yourself the honor of cleaning after them.'

Childish bowed her head in the slightest of mocks she could afford but not supress .'I live to serve.'

Nalukah gave her a stern look. 'You better. I expect you up tomorrow morning, with the other wastrels. Now bugger off.'Bugger off to where?

As the man in blue silk clutched his glasses and moved away from the group she had her answer.

The cave turned out to be a gigantic system. Water dripped down on some walls, and small puddles made her feet wet as she followed the little sly man in the blue silk. He at least, knew where he wanted to go. She kept her distance, trying to make sure she could find her way back in case she lost him.

She wasn't prepared for the sight that lay before her.

The whole place was huge, bigger than any of the other tunnels and holes they had crossed through.

Little light floated through the high ceiling, holes to the upper island. Giant stalactites hung down , deadly and ancient.

There were people digging, hacking ways through the stone, building wooden pillars.

The most impressive part were the murals. They were older than the humans working here, maybe as old as the island itself.

Dark glittering, strange and foreign. Embracing the walls were flames, ruins. And it clearly was religious. A shiver crept down her spine as she spotted a familiar sign, like a sigil, whispering of old gods and voids.

A part of the cave was formed like a small pedestal, and dark obsidian stone glittered, forming a pedestal, an altar?

Childish's blood froze, and she was glad to wear her scarf to hide the disgust on her face.

 _The masked man preaches heresy were many laid to rest_

After seeing this place, she felt positively sick about the implication. That altar, or whatever it was, had tasted blood for sure. The murals were almost laughing in her face as she felt shivers creeping up her spine. If she had known this was what she was getting into, she would have thought about it, maybe snuck back in to Tenna, have a chat, or just hung around Daud until he was annoyed and she would have ended curled up with Ash. Just spent a nice evening somewhere.

This was wrong. Old and twisted. And she hated even breathing in here.

The sly little man had stepped up there. She slowly crept closer. Close to the walls, but making sure not to touch anything.

She had just passed a man working on a big piece of wood, his saw making shrieking , utterly loud noises.

That's when she saw a familiar frame. Big hands gripped the hilt of a sword, cautious. A face without a nose.

Galvain's noseless features seemed to mock her. She felt the blood drain from her face as she watched them talk.

He was alive. Childish had been so sure she had killed him.

There was a bad feeling building in her chest. It couldn't be? Could it..?

As Gailvan retreated, she dared to slip closer, only to see him disappear in a small opening, leading, without doubt, deeper into tunnels and the heart of the island.

There were too many people around now for her to follow easily. She had to come back later.


	18. Chapter 17: Preparations

_**[AN]I am sorry for the long wait.. it's going to the final chapters and I am really not ready to finish, low creativity :(**_

* * *

The cave was cold and dark. Water dripped down on her head, and she pulled the hood and the scarf tight. The damp clothes smelled of the dirty work she had done all day. A unpleasant mixture of sweat, salt and shit.

She'd never get that out of her nose.

At least the last days had given her a grasp about the place. It was huge, but she found her way around some parts.

She made her way through the sleeping men, tiptoeing around bedrolls, makeshift beds and snoring silhouettes under blankets.

In a niche, a lantern flickered, and a familiar crossbow leaned close to a crate. Nalukah was fast asleep, a messy red haired head on a wooden bench. Childish's fingers twitched.

Ah, what a beauty. She admired it from a afar like a lovestruck girl, longing for a kiss.

Later, she promised her greedy heart. They belonged together.

Be smart, she thought. Daud's words had become a reminder, like a mantra, to control herself. Trapped in this place without a familiar face, she found herself missing him. The dark cave and the waiting made her lonely.

It was unwelcome, and strange, but there. Her thoughts shifted to him and Ash often.

But he was capable to care for himself, and she was sure, when she returned, he would be just as steady and sour faced as the day she left, ready to dance their dance again.

As for Ash..the boy was smart. He had proven himself. Without her tripping into the danger he would be fine.

Childish made her way through the big cave, the murals mocking her. Few guards were patrolling around, and seeing their lanterns and torches like bonfires in the dark, she made sure not to cross ways.

Through the small opening, another tunnel led her into unknown ground.

The walls were sleek and steady carved. Who knew how old this place was for sure. She had no mind for history when her Nemesis was so close. With Galvain around, the warmth and steady fire in her belly reminded her of James. The dog was close, the master couldn't be far.

The tunnel led into a another crossway. This place seemed endless.

With a last glance back she decided to press on.

There was a curtain, stained and torn, separating the entrance from the tunnel. Her fingers stroked the cloth, as she took a peek, listening closely for any sign of live.

Galvain's form was visible in the dim light of a dying candle. Sleeping, his breath made hitching, high pitched sounds, his deformed nose showing her of a job she had not finished.

Childish froze, and her hand wandered to her dagger. It would be easy.

He wouldn't know what was coming.

Be clever.

Killing him would only stir the nest she was sitting in. And she hadn't learned anything yet.

Holding her shallow breath, Childish moved past him, creeping along the wall, every foot a guess, a silent promise to return.

A crossbow would kill him just good. What a nice coincidence she'd soon be in possession of an exceptionally beautiful specimen.

Behind his sleeping form, was another room. In the dim grey light, she saw paper on a makeshift table.

It's now or never, she thought, not knowing how long she had.

Retreating would have been easy. It would have been safe.

She wasn't one for safe.

There were steps echoing in the tunnel. And she hadn't closed the curtain. Childish dropped on the ground.

On all her fours, pressing on the cold wet floor, she maneuvered around his bed. Their breaths and her hammering heart beat were the only sounds she heard.

The steps moved closer. Someone coughed.

Galvain moved. His blanket rustled.

Childish froze like a bizarre sort of cockroach, lips pressed together.

He tossed and turned. But didn't wake up.

She crept along, finally reaching the other room, sitting up. The steps had become a distant sound again.

Her coat was wet already and now smeared with mud and sandy dirt.

She tried to clean her dirty hands on her scarf.

Squinting her eyes together, the papers told her about the tunnels and the workers, almost mapping the place. There was, apparently a way up to the island, and the lighthouse.

She assumed that was were the masked man was usually staying. She hadn't seen him once, only heard his name mentioned here and there.

There were letters. She wanted to stuff them into her pockets so badly. But that was impossible. So she just tried to read them as fast as possible.

Galvain had contact with Tychos Maleek, the man hiring the workers and guards. Instructions for material, for weapons, discussions about money.

There were letters about Jones, her sinking influence. About the hatters. About another gang on the rise.

It was not much, she had seen and heard it all herself.

And then, there was a note.

 _The construction is almost finished. It's time to show myself, don't you think, my friend?_

Galvain's answer lay beside it, unfinished.

 _We'll be ready by tomorrow noon. Two days at best. If-'_

Always two days.

Two days to rescue Ash, two days for the deal with Daud. Her life seemed to be riddled with it.

Her fingers clawed into the letter when she noticed the drawing of her face on the desk.

Anger and irritation flared through her for a moment as she took in the curve of her own face, and the innocent look in those younger eyes. She gently smoothed the paper and decided it was time to leave.

Plans were to be made. Two days until the masked man arrived.

* * *

When people decide to move in their own agenda, it's best to watch what comes out of it. Daud had learned to watch and wait , for the best moment to make his move. Patience was a gift, as was reasonable thinking. When one was sure the others outmatched one , be it through resources or strength, there was no need for meddling. Not when they would tire and wear themselves out.

Meddling was a waste of time. He had witnessed fools and smart people alike fall because of their entwined emotions. He wasn't keen on falling. Not when staying on top promised so much more.

 _There is someone, playing with powers he does not comprehend. He will be dangerous. But you are far more so, are you not, my friend?_

The last years in this city had taught him much.

He had followed the trails, listened and wandered, breaking in, taking and giving, dealing a blow if needed. It was familiar. His hands knew what to do, and his breath and heart never missed a beat.

 _He hides his face behind a mask, not to disguise himself, but because he is ashamed. Someone took his vanity. Stole it, like a precious gem._

Blinking, his feet found the steady ground of a stone, and he moved on the roof, leaping over an edge.

Steady and easy. This was what he did.

Wind caressed his face, and his gloved hands gripped to their hold tight.

He was good at what he did. Naturally, he belonged.

 _Does that make us bad people?_ Sara's voice asked, from what felt ages ago.

Her voice replaced the whispering words of the Outsider. When he took the next leap, he heard her laugh.

Good. Bad. What absurd and simple way of sorting things, when the world was as grey as the city around him.

The house was silent. Beneath him a lonely man with a gun went on his duty, moving in circles.

He simply moved on, not wasting any time.

Three men.

Daud waited for a moment, and while their ways parted, he jumped down, sounds of boots dampened by carpet. The first was quick to go, didn't even see him coming.

That was when the second came around the corner, and he stared in the face of Sara's boy. His green eyes widened in surprise.

He hadn't anticipated the boys presence, and for the briefest of seconds he was distracted. It was enough for the third man to draw his sword, slashing at him.

The boy backed away, as the next slash of the man's sword met Daud's. The clashing sound of metal screeched, far too loud. The man swung his sword with brute force. Another slash, and Daud parried, the sword moving away from the guard. He grabbed the man, stabbing him.

It was over as fast as it had begun. With a gurgling sound the dead man sunk to his feet, the blood soaking the carpet.

Daud sheathed his sword, and the boy's green eyes fixed him in the most suspicious glare.

* * *

Ash found himself face to face with a familiar set of dark grey eyes. Blood painting a dark pattern beneath their boots.

If the eyes had been without life, he wouldn't have budged. Dead eyes he knew. He knew monsters and men. He knew to duck but not to flee under their stare. But Daud's eyes promised something else. Lurking behind that hard stare. Ash felt awe the way he had watched the man fight, and he knew,if he had wanted to harm him, he would have been dead.

Still,His hand lingered on his pistol. For what it was worth, he knew Childish trusted him. Ash did not.

Daud moved along, to the safe Ash and the other two men had guarded, and his gloved hands moved quick.

Daud had stopped stuffing the , very valuable, as far as Ash knew and saw, content of the safe into his pocket, holding a book Ash knew all too well. It was a list, one of the many Tychos Maleek had possessed and had wandered into the belongings of Ash's boss not too long ago. Part of the reason Ash had started working here, and probably part of the reason Daud had come.

'Should have known you two were involved.' Daud murmured, letting the book disappear into his coat.

Ash shrugged, only for himself to see.

‚ Sara back yet?' he heard the man's husky voice ask.

 _Sara?_ Ash thought, knowing how much Childish detested to be referred to by that name and wondered once more whatever that thing between them meant.

'If she were,'Ash whispered.'I am sure she would have let you know. Still stuck on the island.'

And hopefully alive, Ash prayed every night before going to bed.

‚Look.' Ash said, Daud had still not turned to look at him, but he saw a thoughtful look on the other man's profile.'I don't want to ask what you're up to. It's not my business. Snooping is my…'he struggled for a word, mother? Sister? ‚It's more of Childish's thing. Just get this over with.'

'You tell me she's still stuck there?'

'Yeah. She wants to find the masked man. He killed Crispin.' _So there are things she doesn't tell you,_ Ash thought, feeling somehow satisfied he still was her closest confidant.

Daud's eyebrow twitched. It was just a second, but Ash saw it.

There was a moment of silence between them. Ash didn't know what to say anymore. Then he coughed.

'You should probably knock me out.'Ash proposed, shifting uncomfortable. Being the only surviving guard was bad enough. No need to get more suspicion drawn to him.

'Probably.' Daud agreed, facing him.

Ash took a deep breath brazing for he impact. Daud's gloved fist made crushing contact with his face, and the lights went out.

He woke up dizzy, feeling sick. Daud had vanished like a ghost, silent. If not for the corpse two feet away, and the open safe, Ash would have thought he had dreamed it all.


	19. Chapter 18

'Move your sorry asses!' Getting brutally torn out of her bed, or even a poor excuse of a bedroll, squeezed tight between two snoring smelly men, was her new favourite thing. Childish preferred waking up next to strangers in another context. And she didn't appreciate one of them slamming his elbow in her stomach.

Yelling and making as much noise as possible, a crossbow passed by her sleepy eyes. The woman attached to it rattled a metal can. In the wide open jaw of the caves the sound echoed from the walls.

'You have a lot work to do today! We get an important visitor!'

 _Lo behold, the saviour has arrived._

Childish coughed out a stifled laugh.

Nalukah stopped next to her. 'Not enough shit for you to clean, Penny? You get the kitchen shift when you are done.'

'Letting someone cleaning shit the whole day cook seems questionable.' Childish scratched her head, not caring about her unruly hair standing in every direction.

' Penny over here earned a double shift the whole week!' Nalukah exclaimed.

'Haha, poor Penny!' a voice boomed.

Hearing Nalukah use her fake name just made her chuckle again at the pun included in the full name she had written in the list.

'And you get her earnings for the week too as a bonus if you prove yourself to me!'

Someone whistled.

'Oh no!' Childish tried to sound genuinely sad.

 _If it's up to me, no one gets paid. And you'll never see me again._

'Penny's a bitch anyway.' Elbow slammer murmured. 'Stole my blanket last night.'

'She didn't. 'Scar lip answered from the other side. 'I did cause you snore.'

Ah, Childish wiggled free between them, stretching her legs, what a beautiful morning this was.

'So, the big boss swinging by?' Someone asked.

Nalukah blinked twice before answering.

'Let's just say tonight will be an important evening. You ,'she pointed at someone behind Childish dozen of the strongest workers and guards moved along. Childish watched them curious. 'With me. The rest, to work!'

OH, an important night for sure, Childish thought. She was keen on finding out about her masked friend and finally seeing him in person.

This whole cult thing was creepy for sure, not even to mention the altar and the murals.

Her brain had been working hard the last day , but there hadn't been much to work with to begin .

She had known before that he was a nutjob. That he gathered people. She now knew he prepared something in the caves. She knew parts of the place. And there was still Galvain, her noseless friend.

She was grasping at straws , beside the fact that she had the most shittiest job in the world.

It was, so to say, a pile of shit.

It was stinking.

It didn't smell so well.

Even her humour suffered from the lack of freedom. She missed the sun and the sky. When she returned to the city, she'd climb ten goddamn roofs, drink too much, and then find someone to spent time with who didn't slam their elbow into her stomach or piss on her boots.

If she had been stronger, better at fighting, this would have been easier. Grab the crossbow, go on a killing spree and disappear. She knew a person fit for a job like that, who would have gone down in a hushed tale of a ghost, a haunting tale of gruesome murder. But she wasn't stronger, and he wasn't here to save her, because he wasn't a knight to safe her scrawny neck everytime she got lazy.

 _Work harder_ , Childish had told her brain and forced herself to move on, splashing water in her face.

 _What was she? Some damsel in distress? She had bitten a man's nose off. She had dared to steal from people who were so high they could have stomped her, but she was fast. That ought to be worth something. She had survived years in this blighted city._

Mapping the caves in front of her eyes, she went to work, scrubbing the stinking stones, splashing ice cold water over it, emptied a bucket into the underwater stream, gurgling salty water along the caves.

As she got to work, some sort of plan had hatched in the back of her mind, like a frail baby chicken, slowly pecking its way into the cold world.

Easy to get into the kitchen, slipping in and out, leaving things. I a cave with a disgusting make shift cooking place, with so many people and so much raw sea food, who would look for another cause to get sick? Wasn't it a surprise people weren't already sick? She just had to make sure she didn't eat any of the food. And she couldn't get them all at the same time. If there were too many sick people now, the masked men may not come down. Breakfast would be great. She'd say...it was sickening good.

The second step was a bit harder.

It had taken some persuasion to get scar lip, who was guarding the armory, which was nothing more than a few old wooden planks hammered into shelves. Luring him away from the table he and the other guards inhabited, she knew he was the weakest link. Worth a shot. If things went south, there were other steps.

'No way in hell.' Scar lip said, arms crossed.'Fuck off, Penny. I know you are snooping around, and I don't want to be involved in your shitshow.'

Childish leaned closer. 'Just a look. Come on. I am not going to steal.'

Which was true. Her trusty knifes and daggers would do as long as the crossbow was too far away.

Scar lip shook his head.

'But we are friends and so close!' Childish said, pouting.

Scar lip lifted his eyebrows. But he didn't rat her out immediately. 'What's my name then?

'Ehh,' she hadn't thought too closely about this in her master plan. Improvising had seemed to work so well. 'Rupert? Shorty? Scar- scara- _Scar_ amouche!'

He shook his head again. 'That's not even a real name.'

'I pay you.' Childish whispered.

That persuaded him.

'Fine. But if you don't... you'll not live a day longer to find out my name.'

It was a deal.

As soon as the other guards were gone or asleep, Childish slipped in and got to work.

She was tired, more than ever, muscles burning and limbs heavy. She practically dragged herself through the caves.

That was when a hand reached out and arms dragged her into the shadows. Childish was too suprised to scream, but a squeaking sound escaped her dry lips before a hand muffled it.

She struggled for a second as her feet kicked into air and she got dragged into the niche deeper, stones closing in, sandy dirt beneath her feet. Then she strangely knew who was dragging her along, because she had smelled him so many times and in the this dark underworld, it was a pleasant smell, something familiar. She knew the almost silent steps of those boots and the way he was smooth and soundless in a place of echoes.

Amusement tugged at her heart, and as he let go, she smiled , turning around.

'Fancy meeting you here.'she whispered. Surely no coincidence.

In the dim light of the cave his face was just as stone and salt as his surroundings.

'You coming to save me?' Ah, the thrill. She didn't know how he had managed to sneak in, but it was glorious. Her mouth was faster than her common sense. It often was when it came to him.

Daud made a little sound that sounded like a snort. She was so happy she wanted to hug him.

‚How did you get here? Why are you here?How did you find me?' Childish asked, moving in closer. Their bodies were inches from each other, and as she looked up, she could study his hard face up close. The way his dark grey eyes kept all his surroundings in check, and his lips curled as he answered. He was all tense and ready to bolt.

‚Not hard to keep track of someone signing up as Penny S. Natchor.' he answered.

Childish giggled, pressing her hand against her mouth. She had known someone would appreciate her joke.

'I guess I don't wanna know who you bribed, saved or killed to get here. But why?'

Daud didn't answer that question, but she knew him. All their games of truth and lies, all their stories had taught her one thing. If he didn't answer a question, there was more to unveil. And it wouldn't be something she wanted to know.

She thought of the murals and the creepy songs.

 _Oh bloody no._

‚Is this about..HIM?' she shuddered.

No answer was enough.

There were voices booming through the cave. Childish was ready to duck, but there was nothing to duck, only shadows and Daud. Dead end, she felt trapped in the small hole.

With no way to squeeze through a crack and escape, Childish moved one more step and closed the gap between their bodies. They were covered in shadows, holding their shallow breaths.

His coat was wet, with little drops of water brushing along her brow, and the smell of salt, that was so prominent, started to soak into it. Still He smelled like himself, and as she had her head against his chest, she could all but listen to the steady beating of his heart, strong but calm, not like her fluttering, excited pulse. It grounded her. It was probably the most steady thing she had ever witnessed in her life.

The steps stretched into an eternity before they passed their hideout.

 _Phew._

'I guess it's my time to shine.' She informed him, taking a step back again. 'Since we are both here I guess you wanna know all about this place yeah?'

'People were vague.' He admitted.

She tried to keep her blabbermouth shut and the information short and simple, Daud's gaze still cut her off two times to keep her on track.

'So, you see, we have a similar goal. And I need more time. I have a plan, trust me.'

Daud shifted his stance, the only movement his still frame had done for a while. 'I don't have time. As you might noticed. We are trapped on an island.' There was insistence in his voice, and iron.

'With more people we can handle,yeah? I know what I am doing. Give me few more hours. I can show you a place no one will ever find. And with your magic blabla you'll be fine anyway.'

 _I am more stubborn than you,_ she thought, giving him a hard look. Trusting her was probably not easy for him after all the stupid plans. But she'd proven to not be completely airheaded, had she not?

'Go on. ' Daud said.'But remember, I need the masked men alive. If only for a little while.'

'Too many men. I'll make them sick.'

His gloved hand closed over her mouth in a warning. 'You better don't try to make a bad joke now.'

Childish's hand closed around his, pushing it away. 'I see your lips moving but all they are doing when I am finished' Childish batted her eyes at him. 'is kiss me.'

* * *

Nalukah was laying on her bed, clutching her stomach when Childish moved along, whistling.

'Penny, 'the other woman said, green and sweaty. 'Bring me-'

'No thanks.' Childish grabbed the crossbow, feeling the unfamiliar weight and admiring the fine craftsmanship. 'I'll take that, if you would be so kind, Ma'am.'

The red haired woman wanted to disagree. But all she did was releasing the contents of her stomach. Childish tiptoed around the puddle , whistling.

Disarmed and left with harshly weakened and decimated forces, two against the rest of the nutjob and Gailvan seemed not exactly like a suicide mission.

Funny enough, half of the guards were sick, those poor bastards. And the other half...her eyes found the pistol on the belt. They'd be surprised.

Strong men are many and wise are few. She hoped she was wise enough.

Sitting close to the pier, she watched the boat pull in once more, water splashing violently against wood, as of to stop it.

She felt excited, it was due time she got to meet the man who was, at least,in parts responsible for her current situation.

The man that had killed her friend. A friend who had been mercy in a world full of hate.

When Gailvan came into sight, Childish retreated. But with the people sick and his new master arriving, he had others things on his mind than looking at the scrawny hooded thing emptying buckets into the water.

She hoped Daud was able to hold it still long enough for them to feel safe. She was sure he was jumping around somewhere close. She had felt that shiver again that had crawled up her spine whenever he blinked around.

A hooded figure got out of the boat, and with long strides the man met Galvain on the shore of his kingdom of doom and dead songs. White like bones, the mask displayed a diffuse patch of circles around his eyes and nose. Whoever had painted that thing had used a colour so alike dried blood it was uncanny. Or maybe that was dried blood. Who knew.

She wasn't close enough to see his eyes, only his hunched over figure, like he had a hard burden to bear.

 _You'll have one more with the bolt of a crossbow between your eyes soon. Or whatever way my assassin friend has in store when_ he's done interrogating you.

'My dear Galvain, 'The mask man said, and Childish's blood froze in her veins, her hands clenched the bucket so hard they seemed white, trembling. 'Old friend. It's been a while.'

She had to be mistaken. There was no way-

'Would you show me the progress? I am so waiting to see the murals in all their glory.'

Muffled but not indistinguishable, the voice belonged to her nemesis. She was not prepared. She hadn't thought it to be like this.

 _He's mine._ She had always thought. Her hands were shaking, and her body trembling as she watched them leave. The feeling in her belly greeted her, the longing, the obsession.

James was the mask man. And she knew she couldn't let Daud get him.


	20. Chapter 19: what pride had wrought

' _Listen, this is my plan.' Childish whispered, excitement colouring her freckled cheeks. 'You listening? This is good. You'll love it.'_

 _Daud snorted quietly. 'We'll see about that.'_

 _She rolled her eyes .'A little faith, my presumptuous friend. As I said, too many guards. Even if you had a full blown squad instead of...' she coughed, looking down on herself.' it'd be tough. So I got rid of them. I dabbled with their weapons. It'll be a blast.'_

 _She giggled again, seemingly enjoying a joke no one but her could get._

' _Oh, I also got my hands on the food.. I'll not stop telling everyone letting someone with my job close to a kitchen. But oh well, the curse of being a simple minion. No one listens. They'll need to feel it when they shit and puke all over themselves. Pray tell, love, you came alone?'_

 _He bristled a moment before he answered. 'There's someone waiting on a ship.'_

' _A ship waiting for you,yeah?' She scratched her nose, seemingly in thought. 'Good to have backup. But more than one person could be tricky to smuggle around. As for the cave...I had an idea and I know you'll hate it. What about blowing the place up once we're done?'_

' _You're not seriously suggestion what I think.'_

' _See, I knew you wouldn't like it. But I'd be perfect! Cleaning up and destroying this disgusting creepy stuff. I am fairly sure there's enough gunpowder to blow up ten creepy caves. We could talk to Rupert Shorty Scar a mouche and maybe he'd let me take it.'_

 _Daud leaned closer, inspecting her face.' how many people know about this?'_

 _'Only this one guy guarding the armory and 'she stopped talking, eyeing him careful. 'OH no, I know that look. Please just let us get it over with. No need to fuss. I am reckless and naive yada yada.'_

 _'You're not blowing up an island, Sara.'_

 _'I could do it.' She pouted. 'In theory. And it's not the whole island, just a small part.'_

 _'A matter of terms. We can get rid of the caves later. I need the masked man first.'_

' _Soo, plan approved?' she grinned in triumph. 'Please say yes.'_

 _He gave her a long glare. 'What choice do I have?'_

 _'Still waiting for my kiss.'_

The way she waltzed through the cave was far from subtle. But she had enough . All the crouching, the hiding, the carefully planned steps. She had enough of it. Her hand clenched the dagger and it was singing steel, calling for vengeance. The crossbow hopped up and down on her back as she broke into a light sprint, and as she followed James, she felt her mind racing.

End it here and now. Her arms were ready. When she was close enough she wouldn't care about Gailvan. She'd go for James. She would stab him. As many times as she could. Drive the dagger into his chest, his back, whatever. It was all too good. But blood was blood and it demanded her to draw it. To bleed him out like a pig.

Shooting him was too good.

All those years she'd imagined stabbing him.

There was no way around it now.

A part of her brain started planning, trying to convince the rest of her body to stop, to find a solution, to play it safe.

But safe was not what her heart demanded.

Whatever discipline she had held, it melted into the hammering beat of her heart, the spinning thoughts and the anger.

She had never been so angry.

Daud was faster than her ,though, and he caught her. There was anger flaring through her veins, as he got hold of her far too easy, shoving her hard, dragging her back, like she was but an escaped sheep from a flock, and he was the dog to shepherd her back, hold her down.

'What, 'he hissed, through his teeth clenched. 'Do you think you're doing? We had an agreement. 'Her lips curled in disgust as she tried to free her hand , holding the dagger at the ready.

'I piss on our agreement. He's mine. 'She spat.

Her back hit the stone hard, sharp edges digging into her skin. She couldn't see them anymore. They had escaped into another part of the tunnel. Gone.

'Let go of me.'she struggled in his hard grip, iron as his dark grey eyes.

'Sara. 'he warned her, as she kicked and tried to wriggle free.

' Let. Go.' she growled, ready to slash the dagger at him if needed.

He twisted her hand, and she made a screeching, frustrated sound. With a _clunk_ that echoed through the caves the dagger fell to the ground. The crossbow dug sharp wooden stakes into her shoulder as he doubled his force, trying to hold her still.

'I left capable people behind because _you asked me to trust your plans._ '

If she had not been so angry, she would have noticed the edge in his voice. Instead, Childish just struggled against his grip.

'You have no idea who this man is. You don't know shit.' she laid emphasis on every word, venom and anger in every syllable.

'You're stupid as ever, Childish.' He said, hands gripping her cheeks, hard. 'Stop being stubborn.'

'Ah,I need to make a fuss for you to stop calling me by that dreadful name. Sara this ,Sara that.' Her face was a mask of disgust. ' I should make a fuss more often , to make you stupid proud son of a bitch listen.'

Daud's hands were still gripping her face, but he seemed unimpressed by her tantrum.

'But no one _ever_ listened to me, because I am so _childish_ , yeah ,guess what, that's why I got the name. That bastard deserves something you won't be able to give him. He has to suffer. Oh you can't imagine how much he has to suffer. He made my life hell. He made Ash's life even worse, and he killed _my best friend._ ' Her voice trembled as much as the hands that closed around his. 'I would do anything to make that happen. So without ill meaning. I piss on our agreement.'

'If you cross the line,' he whispered, warning, eyes dark and meaningful. She saw a glimpse of the predator und this glance. 'You won't ever get back. So don't. Don't cross it. Don't try to cross me.'

She just sighed. His hands let go of her face, wandering along her neck to her shoulders.

'I'I take it from here.' he said, and his hand was so carefully touching her shoulder, she hadn't believed it to be possible. _Last try,_ his hands said, _don't make us do something we might regret._

'I can't let you do that.' She whispered. 'I can't.'

She was a compulsive thief , a bad liar and a firecracker. He was full of dark, brooding secrets not ever to be unveiled, full of ambition. In that moment none of it mattered.

'I am sorry. 'she whispered.

Inches apart, breathing into each others faces, Childish closed the little remaining distance.

Her hands had combed his hair once, gently, she remembered, now she tugged at it, letting it run through her fingers, as she clung to him, wondering how or why this had happened.

Their first kiss was almost sweet, noses brushing , brows touching. It was foreign careful, like the way from a high tree one had climbed, not knowing how to get down.

Their last kiss was less gentle, more tugging, gripping at salt crusted coats, not willing to let go entirely.

Her cool fingers slit down the sides of his face, careful, as if she was trying to map it, to remember it when she closed her eyes, like a blind beggar.

One moment, she felt his breath, and it was steady, and she wished the moment of the _what if_ could have stayed. But reality settled in way too fast.

She leaned away , down , to pick up the dagger.

'Intruder!' Childish yelled , rattling it against the stone. 'HELP!'

The metal made loud thudding noises, singing along was an edge of iron.

Before Daud could even move or snatch her again, steps echoed through the stone.

'I told you. No ill means.' She tried to smile, but seemingly failed, before turning and running away.

* * *

With the kissing and tugging, she had taken his pistol, he realised as one of the guards rounded the corner, green faced but on his feet, and pulled the trigger. Only to have the weapon explode in his face.

Sparks flew right into his eyes, making him yelping and staggering in pain. Tiny shrapnels buried into his face.

Another shot, in the far corner of the cave, probably addressed at Childish, another scream of pain.

 _It will be a blast_ , she had said.

Now he understood the giggles just fine, but with the bitter taste left in his mouth, he couldn't find it remotely funny.

Taking out the man that where stupid enough to draw the weapons and try to fire was easy. The smarter ones, that had witnessed their comrades demise, made use of their swords instead.

Two were smart enough to try and corner him, with both their swords slashing and hacking at him.

It was still and unfair matched fight, for he had measures and abilities at hand they could not have foreseen.

But he still lost precious time, fighting his way probably had been the intention all along.

 _I trusted her._

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He had put his trust in her.

And she hadn't hesitated to cross the line.

A part of him gnawed on it, like a dog crushing a bone between his teeth, little splinters getting stuck between.

Trust was a sword sharp enough to cut a man's throat.

Daud felt particularly drawn to that saying as he sliced a man open , blood gushing, Little splotches of blood splattered along the wall. Dark red droplets accentuating coal black lines along a wall carved by dead hands and people long forgotten.

Sheathing his sword he finally was able to move along. She had a head start. But no worries, he'd catch up. He wasn't sure what to do then. Not with her, that was. She had just ratted him out. The line was crossed, as much was sure.

* * *

With the noise all over the place and the fighting, Childish was sure James had smelled the trouble.

 _Serves you right,_ a mean voice sneered. _Why not just shoot him? You took his pistol, you could have done it._

Could she, though?

Her thoughts shifted to his mouth, to the way his hands had lingered on to a touch she hadn't thought possible.

Everything was wrong.

Her hands were not her hands anymore. There was something else, something dark, something primal, and it roared in excitement, guided her hazy mind, as she tried to make sense of it all.

The fear, the anger, the love, the obsession. It was all mixing in a whirlwind. And there was no escape, it swallowed her whole.

But there was no return now. Not anymore.

Running, boots splashing through puddles of water, heart beating fast. There were shadows, mocking her, and echoes and screams mixed to a cacophonous song of death and fighting.

He was fast. But she had been here for weeks. She could sense him close, but she didn't look.

Instead she moved along. Pistol drawn.

Water roared in the darkness, somewhere behind her. A hidden stream of pitch black salt water, disappearing into the stone it had formed.

She couldn't let him take him.

'Don't make me shoot you, Daud.'she whispered. The pistol in her hand trembled.

There was a glimpse of him, as he stood still for a second, like he was sensing his prey, sniffing it out. They stared at each other for am eerie long time.

Silent. Like two predators, circling the same carcass, both starved and hungry. Both relentless.

Childish didn't aim at him. Firing a warning shot in his direction, the sound of the gun made her ears tingle and hurt. He was gone as fast as he had come.

Dizzy, she turned around, running into the direction of the water, the direction of the tunnels. If only for a second she felt Daud close again, nerves on her spine tingling.

Her arms grazed the walls as she squeezed through a crack, to something she only could hope was a short cut. Wet and slick, briny, sulfury smell all around her.

The sea seemed closer in the darkness. The roaring water like a heartbeat. Hers was fast and her chest ached every step.

Something lay at her feet. As she touched it with her feet, she made out the faintest shimmer of silk, and knew it was the corpse of the sly man she had seen talking to Galvain. With the smell of it, the disgusting, wrenching smell that was worse than anything she had ever smelled, except the dead man in the barrel perhaps, she knew he was dead for quite a bit.

Corpses along the way, the road she walked.

Childish moved along. Dead men would not help her.

* * *

 _The dance we dance, the mess we make._

The gunshot ringed through the whole cave, vibrating in his bones. He had thought he'd been not raised a fool, now he felt like one.

 _How far are you willing to go, I wonder?_

His blood was frozen in his veins, as the race continued. He didn't slip, despite the stones being wet and slick. The air was stale.

It smelled of death. He knew that smell.

Following the trail and sounds, even his breath sounded foreign, as if he had wandered into a dream land. He knew of dream lands and the darkness swallowing them.

A knife lay at his feet. A rigged blade whispering of memories, of friends and burglary. It whispered of a night on a roof,of plans and heists. A memory of morning on a bridge, feeling warm and homesick.

Blood was smeared along the wall in a sprayed pattern. a hand print shone gray in the dim light.

* * *

'Now, now.' Childish said, and Gailvan spun around. The pulled the trigger immediately, sending him flying back, a bolt stuck through his body.

He groaned, but couldn't move. Childish kicked him hard, anger flaring through her as she watched James cloaked back. 'Did no one tell you? Always bring a crossbow to a fist fight, Gailvan.'

The masked face turned to Childish.

'Suprise.'Childish sneered.

'Hello, Sara. 'James said, gripping the mask, and opened the clasps that held it.

His face looked like molten clay in the dim light, lips curled into a grotesque smile, amber eyes slits not bigger than the holes in his mask, scars splattered all over him, she remembered his screams all too well.

'You're uglier than I remember. 'she said, almost sober.

' I could say the same. 'He smiled, as fiendish and angry as a kindling flame. 'But then, it was never about your beauty. You just were very persuasive.'

'Please stop talking. It's making me sick. 'Physical illness mixed with hatred flared in her belly.

'I find it very fitting you come to me.'James said, and his hand wandered to his back. Childish pulled her dagger. 'After you ran away and hid all those years.'

'Lets be honest.' Her blade pointed at his throat as she came closer, a silent warning not to move.' I give a pigshit about your thoughts. You'll die here.'

'Honesty? Refreshing. 'James still smiled.' I wanted to make me powerful, to conquer and take, and this place was a fitting start to gain strength. Who knew odds were against me? You have powerful friends, sadly, you're all alone. And Galvain will cut your neck.'

Strong arms closed around her. She held her hand up, trying to escape the grip. Needle thin iron wire cut her fingers, making her hiss in pain. The wire cut deep, through skin and muscles, tore deep wounds and cut her throat in a tickling sensation. Tears stung in her eyes.

Childish gasped, feeling dizzy, before kicking Gailvan. Trying to ram herself against his wounded side. The wire cut her throat even more in the attempt, but he grunted, lowering the garrotte from her throat for only an inch.

She lashed out with the dagger.

Blood dripped from her numb fingers, from her throat.

She must have gotten him, there was flesh under the steel.

James had grabbed her crossbow, but it was practically useless unloaded.

Or so she thought before he hit her head hard.

Gailvan's foot crushed her useless hand under his boot and she screamed gurgling, before he went down.

She crawled, not willing to give up, her useless hand a claw of torn flesh.

'Poor Sara.' James grabbed her arm, dragging her forward, towards the roaring water. 'You never knew when you were beaten.'

Dangerously close to the rough ending stones, she couldn't find the strength to cry, or beg, or scream.

Her arms embraced James, in a last act of defiance, and as much as the contact made her sick, it surprised him.

'Don't trip.' She whispered hoarse. Then she pushed.

Over the edge they both sailed, arm in arm. He was screaming. She didn't make a sound.

* * *

Following the trail of blood, Daud found the almost lifeless form of a noseless man. He remembered him as one of those he had agreed not to kill.

Surprisingly the man was still conscious.

'Where are they?'

'Sailed down the edge. 'Galvain whispered. 'Until death parted them, ha ha ha.'

Daud made a huffing sound before leaving the man behind to die.

Water rushed beneath his feet . If he had been looking, he may have seen a familiar frame getting swept by and crushed against stones.

Although it wasn't very clear what he would have done, now that trust had severed the blind fools loving head from his body and tossed it aside.


	21. Chapter 20: What remains

_'I thought a lot about something you asked me.'_

 _His dark eyes moved along as she sat next to him, but returned to stare out of their space at the window when she didn't continue._

 _Childish bit her lip before continuing. 'About why I should care if people deem me a bad person.'_

' _I told you I am not caring about good and bad.' Simple as that for him. He didn't even turn to look at her.' I care about strength and weakness.'_

' _Ah, I remember, lonesome wolf.' Downing her glass, Childish shuddered. Head in her hands, she stared at him intently.' So, am I weak? Or strong?'_

 _She smiled about the serious way he studied her. She wondered what he saw. 'You have potential.' He finally said._

 _Childish chuckled. 'Hear, hear! Potential! And there I thought it was my charm and wit keeping him close.'_

 _Daud huffed at her. 'You want to be so many things you don't see what you could be.'_

 _She gripped his hand , pressing it against her chest in a dramatic and mocking gesture. His fingers were surprisingly warm. 'Oh wise one, you make me weep.'_

She cracked her head, limbs flailing, as she sailed into the pitch black, tumbling.

Stones cut her sides, and as the water hit her face it was as if someone kicked her teeth in.

Dizzy, it was more luck than skill she got up, head into the right direction.

The roaring water pushed her body along, and she felt out of control. Like a piece of driftwood her body washed along the stone walls, and too weak, she just tried to breathe.

 _The apple moved flew threw the air, wandering from one hand to the other. 'Do you think we'd have been friends in another life? Like...if I wasn't such a wretch?'_

' _What's the point of wondering? 'He sounded genuinely interested opening one eye. Light painted Daud's face orange. She could feel the warmth, they both bathed in, soaking into their bones._

 _She shrugged. 'Just thinking about being nice and behaving. If it wasn't so boring.'_

' _Mhm.' Like a big lizard, he moved his head slowly, before closing his eye again. 'You dabble in the past too much.'_

 _She smiled , biting into the apple. 'That's strange coming from a man dealing with old religious beliefs.'_

 _'If I'd wanted to discuss business with you, I'd have told you.'_

 _'Business he says.' She scoffed, mouth full of apple. 'Business my ass.'_

She couldn't feel her fingers. As her head bashed against a stone again, that didn't matter.

 _'Hold it like this.'_

 _Ash pressed his lips together in concentration. He watched closely, all patience and understanding._

 _Childish's finger touched the lockpick, nudging Ash's shoulder. The boy had started to outgrow her. 'See? It's not about force. Just tickle it. ' The lock turned in the most satisfying clicking sound._

' _You'll get it. You're clever.'_

Drifting, under the waves, body whirling in the embrace of the cruel mistress that was the sea, she had given up.

 _Running, her feet caught steady ground along the rooftop, she leaped down. Screaming behind her._

 _Crispin was waiting he urged her to move. She laughed as she jumped, almost tackling him._

 _He shook his hand._

 _They ran together._

Strong hands lifted her out of the water. A shadow towered over her, wooden, swaying ground beneath her lifeless form.

'Daud?' she whispered.

'We've got another, captain!' an unfamiliar voice shouted.

Childish lost consciousness again.

* * *

As weeks passed, the memories of the caves became more and more distant. They still were a thorn ,stuck in the back of his mind, and whenever he turned his head, Daud watched shadows closely.

When trust was a sword sharp enough to cut a man's throat, one had to be ready to deflect the blow and keep a distance.

With the immediate thread of the island gone, vicious animals were tired to bide their time, and the gangs reclaimed the streets, filling the gaps and throwing Hecate Jones of her throne.

Beaten, in a last fight, she kept closed, in her house, like it was an impenetrable fortress.

The day it burned to ashes and cinder, the whole city stank.

Smoke curled through the streets like fog, and smothered shouts echoed through the alleys.

The aftermath was chaotic. But things settled.

He was about to move to another hide out, returning tired, bones aching, one night.

That was when he smelled it.

From a place under the wooden floor, under the loose plank. He had hidden the book there, the book that he had bought from Jones a lifetime ago.

It was gone. And a fish was put in its place.

When he looked around, Sara's grey hat was gone too.

* * *

Ash waited for weeks.

Everyday was a dwindling hope. Like a starved child hoping for crumbs, he listened to talking men, and all he heard were tales of destruction.

He witnessed Hecate Jones death. He saw her house burn.

Her remaining men scattered. Some took other banners. Some went missing. Some died.

Ash stayed out of trouble, ducking his head, barely surviving in the wilderness of violence. But he survived.

She would come and look for him. She was alive. For sure.

Six weeks later she still hadn't returned to the city. As a year had passed with Ash alone on the streets, he was sure she had died. With no place to go and no purpose for live he lived from day to day. He took beatings and threads, he didn't care.

One day, a man clad in black stood in the alley he occupied. Ash was trembling in the cold, a skinny, sick young man , dirty and ragged.

He didn't look up as the man came closer. He saw the hilt of a sword. If the man meant to strike him down, so be it. But he didn't. Instead he just stood in front of him.

'You're wasting your life.' Daud said, looking at him.

Ash lifted his burnt out green eyes. 'With anyone I love dead, what does it matter?'

Something in the way Daud's lips curled changed, and there was disgust in his voice. Just a hint. 'She is well and alive in some harbour, probably happily drinking and laughing. She left you, boy.'

'How would you know? 'Ash hissed. Lies, he wanted to say. To scream.

'She betrayed me just like you. Because she never really cared. She stole from me. '

The hurt proved the words true. Ash could sense the anger and the pain inflicted all too well and he understood it, as he looked up.

'So, what do you have to offer?'

'I offer a place to stay and a place to serve. A purpose. I offer you a gift.'

'What does it cost me?'

'Loyalty.'

Daud offered his hand.

Ash grabbed it and stood up.


	22. Epilogue

_Now_

Crispin's old house was in a better shape than Childish's previous place. It was clean,dry,with smoke coming from the chimney. With the money she had made the previous nights, and a little persuasion and threatening she had persuaded Priscilla Crispin, widow of Humphrey Crispin, to stay. The woman hadn't been exactly friendly, but her sneering had been familiar and made Childish laugh.

 _I don't complain about that bed, though. When was the last time I lay in so comfortable sheets?_

The windows were opened wide, an invitation of some sorts. When he moved inside, Childish cocked her head slightly. Drawing a breath, her stiff fingers stuttered only for a second before returning to the task of cleaning the pistol.

Inconvenient that he had to show up mere hours before she needed to go. But it was not like she could just throw him out. She had no control over any of his actions, and she sure as hell wouldn't have wished for that burden.

They had both been much younger when they met, and aging had took a good part of her, twisted her with bitterness and suspicion. Now, when she looked at him, she could almost forget the bitterness, swallow this lump in her throat. But just almost. There were was a different ache in her heart, mixed with guilt, and she hated it. She had expected Ash, sweet, puppy eyes making Ash, who wanted her recognition so much. Childish thought about his longing stare, it made her uncomfortable, because she was well aware that she could never give him what he needed. Maybe, she mused, as she had opened every window in the first floor, Daud would be fed up and just send one of his henchman to finish her. But there he was, master assassin himself, stubble on his chin and bloodshot eyes.

 _Poor,tired Daud. Too much to do, to much to work. Never still. You built yourself a pack. And here I come and howl , distract you. How you must hate me._

She swallowed the words. Instead she let her hands distract her thoughts, not even looking in his direction.

For a while the fire cackling and the sounds of the weapon clicking were the only sound between them.

'And good evening to you too! 'she cheered. His stare was freezing. Childish supressed a stifled chuckle.

 _So gloomy today? I wonder what pissed you off. Oh, right. Me._

A part of her soul ached, wanted her to fall on her knees and beg for forgiveness. It was the part she had been running away from. Having him close made her regret. Shame burned through her shivering soul, to the tips of her stiff finger.

'I took the liberty of moving into Crispin's place. Much crozier. Also, No rats. They got in my bed, I really couldn't stand it.' She crossed her bare feet and enjoyed the warmth of the fire on her back. Her clothes were still damp, as was her hair. He was still wearing his red coat, but his clothes were stained with splotches of ,what Childish assumed, blood. She searched for a sign that any of the blood was his, and was reassured when she saw he was unharmed.

That concern made her heart ache.

'I told you I would keep an eye on you. And you still attempt to cloak your whereabouts.'

'Very much so.' She threw the cloth she had used to clean the weapon to the ground, the smell of the oil lingered. 'I have faith in you to find me anyway, take it as a token of my affection.'

'Your affection. 'he muttered. 'I know a great deal of your affection. Keep it.'

'Yeah, tell yourself that, my dear. But let's face the truth; you may not trust me, but you are still here, which means, 'Another long look he didn't reciprocate 'some small part cares. Not that I complain. I am truly sorry for anything that happened. But you know our interests interfered with one another. They still do, I'd wager.'

'And what does that tell you about yourself, Sara?'

She cringed at the use of her name. It was a dance, a really dangerous one. She had danced with him before. And look where that had gotten them both.

'It makes me question what will come out of all this.'

He slumped on her bed, without even asking, massaging his temple with his fingers. 'Should you be the one to ask?'

Guilt settled in, made her body heavy and her gaze teary.

'Daud.' Her voice was hoarse but firm. 'Why did you come here?'

'You are scheming something, Sara.'

'Oh, I am.' No use denying the obvious, especially when she was not able to lie convincing enough. Not at the rate her heart hammered in her chest, and not when she felt like she would explode. 'You know, the matter with Gailvan? I may have mentioned it the last time you broke into my place and threatened me.'

 _Rude,_ her inner voice wanted to slap her. _Rude and unnecessary. You deserve everything he wants to do to you._

'I know you obtained enough explosives to destroy a whole bunch of buildings.'

'Oh,' Damn, nothing happened in this town without him noticing, did it?

 _Think, Childish. Fast. If he knows what you are going to do,he may budge in. You can't risk that._

She felt the urge to just spill the beans, tell him anything. But she couldn't. She blinked against the water in her eyes, averting her gaze, getting up.

Her shirt was stained with oil. She moved over to the closet, pulling it over her head. Daud's eyes followed, and he probably looked at the ink curling over her skin. She'd stared at them enough in the mirror to now the picture of the flying bird, a black and white magpie, mocking beak full of jewels, towering over scars.

'I've got another, lower down, wanna see?' _Cheap girl_ , inner voice scolded , but maybe it would at least distract him. 'Don't fret over it, Daud, I won't tell you. But rest assured it is not intended to harm you.'

'I don't believe anything you promise.' He said. 'And what's to harm me, is not your position to decide.'

The fire suddenly didn't warm her anymore. She threw the old shirt away in disgust, turning around, closing the last button. Daud watched her with wary eyes.

Please go, she thought. No, no. Stay.

He just sat there. Childish moved closer, slowly, as if a approaching a wild animal.

"You are not hurt, are you? "she heard herself say, much more gentle than she would have thought capable.

"I am not. "he answered. That was a good sign, was it not?

"I bet you had a rough day, with all that blood in your shirt."again,gentle."Is that why you wear red now?"

'Your jokes haven't gotten better over the years.'

Sitting down beside the bed, as close to him as she dared, she felt hesitation. She owed him. If she didn't tell. She'd never be able to.

'Let it sink in, it may get to you.'

'I won't ever let you get to me again.' It stung. She hadn't anticipated how much.

'Let us put all the cards on the table, my love.' She finally said.

He bristled.

'I'll need to leave soon. I have an appointment. You know about the explosives. And I am sure you know since James left, he joined ranks with the abbey, however he survived the fall. Tonight he'll be unprotected. So, 'trying to show him as much honesty as possible, she looked up, only to find him glaring back. 'Would you watch the fireworks with me?'


End file.
